Promises
by Luna4ever
Summary: Christine never forgot the boy who rescued her scarf from a freezing lake; he doesn't forget, either. But instead of a scarf, the pair faces a new threat: a stalker in a mask. Can they defeat this strange man in a mask - or will his strange hypnotic charms lure Christine past the point of no return? Modern AU R/C. Rated M for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

"Raoul, it's just a scarf," Christine giggled.

"Don't hurt her feelings!" Raoul exclaimed, putting one bare foot onto the icy lake, his shoes and socks discarded on the stones. "Fear not, Francesca, I'm coming!"

"Raoul, seriously, you'll freeze!" Christine shouted. "I can buy a new one, seriously, Raoul-"

"The ice is supporting me, Little Lotte," Raoul replied nonchalantly. "_Seriously_, Christine, I'm fine!"

At that moment, the ice broke and he fell through. Christine shrieked and ran towards the lake. She immediately took off her shoes and socks and started crawling towards him.

"I'm fine!" Raoul called, paddling so his head would stay above water. "I can still reach it-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Raoul," Christine said, splayed on the ice. "You'll get frostbite if you stay in the water much longer. Please, just grab onto my hand."

Raoul reached for the scarf, his fingertips just barely touching it. "I've – nearly – got – it!" he said, stretching a little farther.

The ice underneath Raoul's arm broke just as he grabbed the scarf, and his head went under. "_Raoul_!" Christine screamed, army crawling towards the black, gaping hole under which Raoul had submerged. She rolled up her sweater sleeves and braced herself as she plunged her arms into the freezing water. She felt a slippery hand grab hers, and with all her might, she tugged and pulled until she could see Raoul's face above water again. He hoisted himself up and she dragged him out, and together the two of them carefully crawled back to shore.

They collapsed on the stones, heaving for breath and sopping wet. In Raoul's hand was the red scarf. He coughed up water before sitting up and grinning as if he were drunk. "Got it," he said breathlessly.

Christine shook her head and, against her better judgement, started laughing. "Raoul de Chagny, you are the most stupidly gallant boy I've ever met in my life."

"Good," Raoul replied, still grinning. "Here's your scarf, Mademoiselle Daae."

"Oh, don't look so pleased with yourself," Christine laughed, snatching the scarf out of Raoul's hand.

"Just don't lose Francesca, okay?" Raoul told her sternly as he got up and put his socks and shoes back on. "I treasure her dearly."

"Of course I won't," Christine promised. "I'll keep Francesca until the day I die."

Teeth chattering, the pair headed home to a shocked and concerned Mr. Daae, who immediately chastised them for wading into the lake ("What in God's name were you thinking? You could have both died of frostbite!") and sent Raoul home for a warm shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine's euphoria was not to last. Just days after Raoul rescued her scarf, her father informed her that they were moving. "But Raoul is here," Christine protested. "I have _friends_ here."

Mr. Daae looked at his thirteen-year-old daughter sadly. "I know, my darling," he said soberly. "But, pet, we must move to Paris. I have looked for every opportunity to avoid doing this to you, and to Raoul, but I'm afraid we have to."

"We'll stay with Raoul's family," Christine offered. "They won't mind! His mother likes me well enough."

"Christine," Mr. Daae said gently, "we have to move to Paris for your sake."

Christine frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I don't _want_ to move to Paris."

Mr. Daae sighed heavily. "Christine, you are far too young to deal with this," he said, choking a little as tears came to his eyes. "Darling, I'm sick. The doctors recommend that I be moved to a hospital in Paris, but the cancer – the cancer is probably incurable."

At first, she didn't understand – and did not want to understand. "Daddy," she said shakily, "what… what are you saying?"

"I'm so sorry, my darling Christine," Mr. Daae said softly, tears streaming from his eyes. "I'm – I'm dying. And we have to move to Paris. I've asked an old friend, Madame Giry, if she will accept you into the ballet school at the Opera Populaire so you will have a job after I am gone, and I've asked Mama Valerius to take you in, so you will have a home after I am gone, and they have both agreed-"

"I'll stay with Raoul!" Christine said desperately. "Papa, please, not ballet school-"

"I know," Mr. Daae sighed. "I know how much you wanted to study physics, doll, but our finances- our finances, the way they are, I can barely afford to pay for your upkeep until university. I haven't performed in years, and being famous alone does not make me money."

Christine had done a very good job of keeping back her tears, but all the information just became too much. She started bawling, thinking of life without her father and life without Raoul and life in Paris and life as a _ballerina_ –

But she said none of this. Instead, she said in a very small voice, "When do we leave?"

There was a silence, and then: "Two weeks come this Monday."

Two weeks left with her best friend. And then how long did Christine have until she lost her only other friend, her father? How long would he be with her after those two weeks? When would he desert her?

"Papa," Christine cried, and ran to hug him. "Papa, we can stay here. We don't have to move. I'll find a job here – I can work as a housemaid or something, if people still use those-"

"You will be better off under Madame Giry's and Mama Valerius's care," her father replied steadily, hugging her tightly. "They are old friends of mine, and as much as I would prefer to leave you to Raoul's family, they have five children of their own. I doubt that they would want a sixth – and not to mention the financial burden it would put them in."

"Money," Christine said disgustedly. "Money controls everything. Why can't I just work for Raoul's family? I'll make up for anything they spend on me – they'll never have to spend anything on me anyways, because-"

"Christine," her father said gently. Christine stopped talking. "Raoul's family has enough on their mind already. Mama Valerius will take very good care of you, and you will have enough to get you through university if you so choose."

Christine's bottom lip started trembling. "Fine," she said bitterly, and with that she ran outside to cry while the snow swirled around her.


	3. Chapter 3

She had to break the news to Raoul the next day. He, as she predicted, offered the same solution that she had: "You'll stay with us, then!" he exclaimed. "Mama and Papa won't mind! We'll go to the same school so you don't have to get tutored by – what's her name?"

"Madame Giry," Christine said dully.

"So you don't have to get tutored by Madame Giry," Raoul finished. "Or – or I can get my parents to move to Paris with you! That way, even if your father dies – and that's an _if_, Chris – you can just move in with us afterwards and he'll never know better."

Christine really didn't want to cry in front of Raoul. She knew that she looked ugly when she cried and that was not something that she wanted Raoul to see. She was sure he didn't like her back the way that she liked him, but she still didn't want him to see her cry. It was like showing a weakness.

"That's going behind his back," Christine said, swallowing hard so she wouldn't have to cry. But the tears still started welling up in her eyes anyways. "I don't want to betray my father."

It seemed that any mention of her father brought Christine to tears. She couldn't hold it back anymore, and she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed. She couldn't bear the thought of living without her father. He was the only one who had been there throughout her life. Even Raoul had only known her for two years – but her father had been there for her since she was born. He had held her when her mother had died when she was four and she cried her heart out; and he had been there when she won first place at her school's science fair when she was seven; and he had been there when she discovered that she had none of his musical talent after a disastrous violin recital at age nine. What would happen to her after he was gone? Who would be there to take her to her first school dance? Who would be there when she graduated high school? Who would be there when she got accepted into university, or graduated university, or got her first job?

"Oh, Christine," Raoul murmured, pulling her close and hugging her tightly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I was insensitive. I just really don't want to lose you. Facebook isn't the same and we can't make trips to Paris that often… I just panicked."

"I'm scared, Raoul," Christine sniffled. "I'm so scared. I don't know Madame Giry and I don't know Mama Valerius. I know Father. I know _you_. And- and what- what happens when- w-when F-F-Father-"

She collapsed into a crying mess again. Raoul began rocking her back and forth, almost as if he was trying to rock her to sleep, as if this was all just a horrible dream. "I'll be here," Raoul promised. "And I'll make as many trips into Paris as I can. And we'll Skype every single night."

Christine let out a watery laugh. "Okay," she agreed.

"And I'm gonna hug you as much as I can now," Raoul said fiercely, tightening his hands around her back. He kissed her hair and whispered, "I love you."

Christine's heart leapt in her chest. "I love you too," she whispered back. She carefully wiped her eyes and looked up at Raoul. His face was very red and his ears looked like they'd been set on fire. In spite of herself, she giggled. "I'll love you forever, Raoul de Chagny."

Raoul's face practically lit up. "You will?" he said hopefully. "You promise?"

"I promise," Christine said solemnly. "I'd swear to it."

"Christine, let's promise that we'll never love another so long as we both shall live," Raoul declared. "I know I won't. I'll never love anyone but you."

"I can't possibly," Christine exclaimed. "There's no one like you so I can't love anyone but you."

"And we'll Skype every night," Raoul said determinedly. "The distance won't feel like much."

Christine nodded, leaning her head on Raoul's shoulder. "We will," she said, more to herself than Raoul. "We'll survive." She sighed. "But _ballet school_…"


	4. Chapter 4

Well, their childish dreams were just that. Raoul and Christine did Skype every day once Christine moved, but pretty soon Christine became too busy between ballet school and real school, and Raoul couldn't keep up Skyping when his dad kept getting moved to different countries to work. At one point, Raoul was in America, and he couldn't Skype Christine because every time she was free, he was in the middle of school. So they lost touch.

Christine's father died when she was fourteen. He promised her, lying on a hospital bed with IVs hooked into every orfice of his body, that he would not leave her fully. "I'll come and guard you as your Angel of Music," he told her. "I won't ever be gone, child. I promise."

And Christine, young and vulnerable and too afraid to face the world alone, believed him.

Madame Giry was strict as Mama Valerius was lenient and kind. But both of them did care about Christine. They looked after her. However, Christine's stint as a ballerina went about as well as Christine had expected. She had absolutely no flexibility, her rhythm was atrocious, and she had to drop out of ballet school to make way for people who actually knew how to dance. Madame Giry and Mama Valerius still looked after Christine, though, and when Christine was sixteen, Madame Giry sent Christine to a boarding school in England with her daughter Meg.

Christine never really stopped thinking about Raoul, and wondering what he was up to. The last time she had checked his Facebook, she had seen him with his arm around some blonde bombshell. The mere thought of Raoul with another girl made Christine feel slightly queasy. She looked at her own bushy, dark hair and brown skin and wondered if Raoul still loved her. Then she looked at his blonde girlfriend and decided that he must not.

For her own sake, Christine deleted her Facebook. She made the decision to stop pining after someone who had, in all likelihood, completely forgotten about her. She moved on and joined a few clubs at her school. She joined a robotics team, but at the insistence of her friend Meg, she also started participating in the musical theatre programs at her school. She never got cast as anything but a chorus member, but she didn't mind.

It was on the robotics team that Christine first met Frederick. He was from the boys' boarding school, and the robotics team was shared between her school and his. He looked a bit like Christine imagined Raoul would look now: dirty blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a narrow frame. They took to each other immediately and worked on the mechanical and design of the robot. Within a month, Frederick asked Christine to a school dance, and she happily said yes.

They started going on dates outside of school grounds, into the local villages. Their favourite haunt was the little Costa Coffee that was only half a mile from the girls' school.

It seemed, however, that the little Costa Coffee was not just Frederick and Christine's favourite haunt.

At first, Christine paid no attention to the man in the shadows who always wore a mask. She and Frederick thought that he was part of the town's quirks. And once they had noticed him, they started pointing him out in other places in town. "Oh, look, there's that masked man again!" And then the two of them would giggle and that would be the end of it.

Frederick and Christine were celebrating their six-month anniversary when it happened.

Frederick had arranged for a picnic by the Thames – a very romantic spot, especially considering that the sun was shining for the first time in two weeks. There wasn't a drop of rain in the sky (although with England, that was never a guarantee). Frederick had even packed their favourite sandwiches and a little chocolate cake that said "Happy 6 Months".

"That man," Frederick whispered as he lay down the blanket. "That man with the mask is right there."

Christine frowned, and she felt her heart skip a beat. "I thought you said no one knew this area," she whispered back.

"No one _does_," he insisted. "Christine… I… call me paranoid, but I think he's following us."

Frederick shakily opened the picnic basket, but inside there was no cake or sandwiches. In their stead was one human skull and, lodged in the corner, a bulging envelope. Christine screamed at the sight of the human skull while Frederick took the envelope and opened it.

The envelope was filled with pictures of Frederick and Christine. There was a red X drawn on every single photo that showed Frederick's face.

"Holy _shit_," Frederick shouted. "_What the fuck_!" He spun around to face the man in the mask, but the man was no longer there. Where the man had sat was a note scrawled in red ink: "_Leave Christine alone. She belongs to me._"

Frederick turned around, the note in his shaking hand. "Christine?" he asked.

Christine shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "Fred, I swear, I don't know! No one is left to care about me – Father is dead and Mama Valerius is still in Paris."

"Clearly someone doesn't want me around you," Frederick replied, looking at the note.

Frederick kept getting threats from the man in the mask for the next three months. The threats became too much, and Frederick succumbed to the pressure. "I can't deal with this, Christine," he said. "I still love you but I can't live with these threats."

"It's not my fault," Christine protested.

But Frederick shook his head. "It is, in a way," he said mysteriously.

Heartbroken, Christine cried in her room with only Meg to comfort her. "He's stupid," Meg said, giving Christine a large bowl of chocolate ice cream. "It isn't your fault that someone is stalking you."

"But what does that man _want_?" Christine wailed. "I'm nothing special."

"_Christine_."

Christine turned to Meg, but Meg looked frightened. "I didn't say anything," she said.

"Oh, God, he's following me!" Christine shrieked. "I'm not safe anywhere!"

Meg grabbed her friend's arm and held her back with all her might. "Then we'll report it, Christine!" she exclaimed. "We'll report it to the Headmistress and they can get policemen to guard this room. And I'm living here, too, Chris. That person will have to get through me first!"

Christine glanced at her thin, fragile friend and resisted the urge to laugh at the ludicrous offer. But the thought that she had a friend there, constantly, did reassure her slightly.

"_Christine_."

She jumped. "Who is it?" she called out hysterically. "Who's there?"

"Leave her alone!" Meg shouted bravely. "I'm telling you, we're going to the Headmistress!"

The voice chuckled. "_They'll never find me_."

From that moment on, Christine and Meg were never quite sure if they were alone in their room. They asked the Headmistress if they could move rooms, which they were denied because every single room was already filled. Policemen looked all around the dorms but found nothing. Christine and Meg refused to change in their own room but instead went to other friends' rooms to change, study, and occasionally sleep.

This continued until the school's opening night of the musical production Wicked.


	5. Chapter 5

Carlotta, or Carly as her friends called her, was set to be performing as Glinda. As always, Christine was an understudy for Glinda but was going to be in the chorus whilst Meg was going to be Elphaba. This was supposed to be a big performance as people from the local university and the boys' school (Frederick's school) were performing. Fiyero was going to be played by a first-year university student and Boq was going to be played by a sixteen-year-old from Frederick's school. Christine had refrained from talking to people except for Meg, and so she had already apparently gained the reputation of the "quiet genius girl who is silently judging all of us" – the only thing that the others knew about her was that she was the captain of the robotics team.

Truthfully, Christine kept silent because she was afraid of what she would hear in return. What if the man was watching her? What if she said something against him and he got angry? She knew she wasn't paranoid: she had seen the man several times when she and Meg had dared to venture off campus. He was always there in the background, never speaking to her but always following her wherever she went.

An hour before the performance, Christine was eating dinner with Meg when she got a frantic call from the youngest cast member, Jammes, who was playing Nessarose. "Christine, you have to come quickly!" she shrieked. There was a lot of incoherent mumbling. All Christine managed to discern was "Carly" and "Joe". Joe probably referred to Joseph Buquet, the extremely flirty first-year university student who was playing Fiyero. Christine frowned at Meg as she ended the call.

"I'm not even finished," she complained, looking at her half-eaten pizza. (Christine suffered from a peculiar set of stage nerves in which she ate far more than usual and therefore ended up consuming approximately one and a half pizzas before a show.) "Will I be able to take this with me?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "It's still in the box, dummy," she said. "Just package it up and you can eat it on the way."

"How ridiculous would that look, though!" Christine exclaimed, reluctantly closing the pizza box. "One girl eating an entire pizza while running through the streets…"

"It's not like you know anyone in town anyways," Meg pointed out. "No one will care, Chris. Apparently we need to get back, though."

So Christine pretended that no one saw her as she ran through the cobblestone streets, consuming her pizza inhumanly fast. As she glanced up from her pizza box, she thought she caught a glimpse of a young man who looked a lot like Raoul. Her heart skipped a beat but she tried to shove down the joy that she felt. It was probably just Frederick. She hadn't seen the boy in about a year, so he could have grown. He had already looked a lot like Raoul to begin with.

By the time Christine and Meg made it to the theatre, Christine had finished her pizza and everything else was in a state of chaos. Jammes ran up to Christine, practically crying out of hysteria. "Carly is sick!" she cried. "Carly is sick and is croaking like a toad! Christine, you have to sing Glinda but we've been rehearsing and you haven't been there and oh my gosh _do you even know Glinda's part_?"

"Okay, well, firstly you can breathe," Christine said. "I- I think I know her part. It isn't too hard."

"It _isn't too hard_!" Jammes exclaimed in horror. "Do you even _know_ what Glinda goes through in this? Do you even _understand_ the depth of her character?"

"She's really girly," Christine said vaguely. "I can do that."

"_Oh my gosh you don't understand anything_!" Jammes dashed off in another fit of hysteria.

Christine frowned after Jammes. "I guess this will make things a little difficult," she said.

Meg looked questioningly at Christine. "How do you mean?"

"Elphaba has that one song – what is it – I'm not that Girl? Isn't that where Elphaba says that Glinda has blonde hair and blue eyes?"

Meg looked at her friend, with her black bushy hair and brown skin, and burst out laughing. "Well, maybe the audience will overlook that," she said.

Christine laughed. "Maybe," she agreed. "I guess I've got to rehearse, though."

At that moment, there was a loud crash in the theatre and then a voice that shouted, "I instructed for seat five to be kept empty!"

Several people screamed. "I guess someone really wanted to see his daughter playing Munchkin 3," Meg said nonchalantly.

"No one was there," Joe said, jumping out from behind Meg. "It was a ghost! And he's coming for you next!" He grabbed Meg's waist. Meg jumped.

"Hold your tongue," a familiar voice snapped. "Haven't you learned not to anger ghosts?"

"Mother!" Meg gasped, running to hug her mother. Christine was close behind her.

"Madame Giry! I didn't know you were coming!"

Madame Giry smiled. "Well, I couldn't miss this performance, could I?" she said warmly. "My girls will be showstoppers."

"You heard?" Christine said. "Madame Giry, I'm going to be playing Glinda!"

"You are?" Madame Giry exclaimed. "Well, congratulations! Is Carlotta ill?"

"Apparently she's lost her voice," Meg said. "Now Christine and I get to be best friends _and_ play best friends on stage!"

Christine grinned, and then she felt her stomach flip. "I need another pizza," she announced.

"I'll be on stage with you," Meg laughed. "You'll be fine, Rissy."

Christine gulped. "I've forgotten the words to 'Thank Goodness'," she said nervously.

"And you'll remember them once you're on stage," Meg said. "Oh my gosh, Rissy, seriously, you'll be fine."

Meg kept up the mantra until the curtain was raised and the bright lights glared in Christine's face. Luckily, she did _not_ forget the words to 'Thank Goodness', nor did she forget any lines – although she did hiccup in 'Popular'. As she looked out into the audience at the end of 'Popular', she thought she saw Raoul – but she tried to keep in character and pretend to be happy. She also thought she heard someone shout "Fabulous!" but she pretended that didn't happen.

Overall, the performance went well. Christine was allowed to get out of her voluminous Glinda costume before heading outside to "greet" people – or, rather, stand with Meg and Madame Giry and occasionally be interrupted by people who would say, "You did a great job!" before leaving. As she grabbed her purse, she heard that disembodied voice that she still heard in her nightmares: "_Brava, Christine, brava… You have the voice of an angel_."

Christine's heart started pounding so fast she thought her chest might explode. She gulped and gathered the courage to answer. "And who are you to tell me this?" she called.

"_I am Erik, Christine. But you may call me your Angel of Music. I can help you to sing better_."

Was he lying? Was his name really Erik? Christine tried to take a few deep breaths to calm down. "I'm a scientist, not a singer," she said. "This was a one-time deal. I appreciate the offer, but I don't want voice lessons."

"_Carlotta will be sick for the duration of this musical. Surely you want to improve for just this_?"

"How do you know Carlotta will be sick?" Christine asked. "She'll be back tomorrow. And this is my last musical. I'm going off to university soon."

"_I will make sure that the spotlight is on those who deserve it._"

That sentence was chilling enough. "I'm leaving," Christine announced. "If you are not a coward, then come out where I can see you face to face."

To her surprise, there was some rustling and the man in the mask appeared in Christine's mirror. Christine jumped. "You scared me!" she exclaimed.

"_I'm sorry_," the man in the mask – Erik – said. "_But you told me to come out where you can see me_."

Christine paused. She wasn't quite sure what to do now that Erik had actually revealed himself. Was he really an angel? Was he just her guardian angel? But then why would he threaten Frederick and stalk her?

She took a deep breath. "I'd appreciate it," she said in a loud voice, "if you left me alone. I don't appreciate being followed everywhere and I don't appreciate not knowing whether I am safe in my own room. Leave me alone."

Erik's face was hidden by the mask. "_There is so much you do not know_." And with that, he disappeared.

Completely shaken, Christine dashed out and slammed the door behind her for good measure.


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: Thank you guys so much for following and reviewing this! We're just about getting started but I should be updating regularly for the foreseeable future. Hope you guys enjoy!)

"Christine, you're pale," Meg noticed the moment Christine arrived. Meg was still completely green, having given up trying to get the stuff off. "Are you okay? You look a little worried."

Christine shook her head. "His name is Erik," she whispered.

"His- what?"

Meg gasped. "He- he spoke? He told you his _name_?" she said.

"What's this?" Madame Giry asked.

"Someone is stalking Christine," Meg said matter-of-factly.

Madame Giry looked sternly at Christine. "Haven't you reported this by now?" she asked. "Christine Daae, you should report this to the authorities."

"We did," Christine said miserably. "It's been going on for two years. We reported it to police but no one really looked into it, and the Headmistress assumed it was jut a guy from the neighbouring school who was playing a prank on me."

Madame Giry shook her head disapprovingly. "Authorities are useless," she said scathingly. "Christine, you look after yourself. Never put yourself in a position where he can corner you and take you somewhere else, all right?"

Christine nodded fervently.

"Or maybe it's a _ghost_!" Joseph Buquet said, touching Christine's shoulder and making her jump. The lights flickered. "Ooh, what made the lights flicker? I've always heard this school was haunted…" And he went off laughing before anyone could reprimand him.

"University students," Meg said irritably. "I can't believe I have to pretend to fall in love with that idiot."

Christine laughed nervously just as someone tackled her with a hug from behind. She screamed, making everyone turn to her in confusion.

"Christine!" A boy was laughing. "It's me, Christine! I thought I'd never see you again!" He paused. "You _are_ Christine, right?"

She turned around to see – no, it couldn't be –

"Raoul!" she screeched excitedly, tackling him with a hug. "Raoul, I knew it was you!"

Raoul was grinning. He had grown tall and muscular, but his hair was still golden and his eyes were still deep blue. His smile was just as kind and warm as Christine remembered. His hair had grown slightly, reaching his chin; and despite his muscle and height, he almost seemed more delicate. "Christine," he said happily. "You sang beautifully."

Christine blushed. "Thank you," she said shyly.

"Raoul!" A blonde girl who looked at least twenty ran up to him. Christine's heart immediately turned to stone. Of course Raoul was still dating models. He was far too good-looking and wonderful for someone like her.

"Oh, Christine, you haven't met my sister," Raoul said, putting his arm around the girl. "This is Victoire. She got married a few years ago."

"Oh!" Christine exclaimed, immediately brightening up. Of course the girl was related to Raoul – they had the same eyes. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Raoul hasn't stopped talking about you," Victoire said, winking at Raoul.

"Hush," Raoul said, turning bright red.

"I'm just saying," Victoire said, shrugging. "He spends at least half an hour every night staring at your name on Skype."

"You haven't lived with me for two years!" Raoul protested, blushing furiously.

Victoire shrugged. "I'm teasing him," she told Christine. "But I'm not kidding. He was really sad when you two lost touch. He's such a hopeless romantic."

Once Victoire had left, Raoul immediately rose to his defence: "I haven't spent half an hour staring at your little online dot on Skype, Christine, that's just creepy-"

"I have too," Christine interrupted.

Raoul smiled sheepishly.

"Let's catch up," Christine suggested, nodding to Madame Giry and Meg. "I haven't seen you in forever. There's a very nice path outside, just around the school, and I think it's still light outside." She remembered Erik, but she didn't want to let him jeopardise another relationship – especially when this one was actually important.

"Sounds perfect," Raoul agreed, following Christine outside into the fresh spring air. As they started walking, he shyly took her hand in his. "You're still wearing your scarf that I rescued all those years ago."

"It's only been five years," Christine pointed out. "But yes, I am. It reminds me of you. And it reminds me of Father." She sighed nostalgically. "It reminds me of a happier time, when you and Father and I would be our own sort of family."

"But surely you're happy now?" Raoul said confusedly. "You've got friends, and I saw a picture of you in the hallway as the robotics team captain! You're doing really well, it seems."

"Yes," Christine said. "I am happy. It just seems like I would be happier if Father were here." She shook her head and smiled at Raoul. "But I'm happier now that you're back."

Raoul smiled at her. "I'm glad," he said. "I am, too. And we both are living in England now, through some kind of dumb luck! Or- you are staying here, right?"

"Well, I'm here at boarding school and I'm going to King's next year," Christine replied. "I'm here for a while, at least."

"I'm studying at Oxford," Raoul said. "Philippe and I moved to London last year after Philippe got a job teaching at UCL, though."

"Is he that old?" Christine asked, taken aback. She couldn't remember Philippe's face for the life of her, but she did know that she had met him at least once.

"Philippe is thirty-three," Raoul laughed. "He's quite a lot older than the rest of us. He practically fathered me after Mum and Dad died."

"Oh, no," Christine said sadly. "Your parents died?"

Raoul nodded soberly. "Mum died of breast cancer three years ago, and Dad died about a year ago now. Philippe always said Dad died of a broken heart." He shrugged. "I still miss them a lot. But Philippe said that there was no point spending the rest of our lives in misery. He said we should do something that would make them proud of us, something that would make them live on through our own actions."

Christine looked at the dewy grass and nodded. "Philippe is wise, then," she decided. "I suppose I never got over losing Papa. He was my only friend until I had you – and then he was my only friend again when we lost touch. But I do have Meg now. And – and you live in London! We can visit each other!" She exclaimed in sudden realisation. "I'm only thirty minutes away from London!"

"And an hour from Oxford, if you take the fast train," Raoul added excitedly. "Oh, Christine!" He bit his lip and then said, "Christine, if I asked you to be my girlfriend right now, what would you say?"

Christine looked coyly at Raoul's earnest face and knew that she couldn't possibly say anything but yes. "If you're going to ask me to be your girlfriend, you might as well not skate around hypotheticals," Christine said playfully.

Raoul immediately stopped walking and spun Christine around to face him. Taking her hand in his, he got down on one knee and proclaimed loudly, "Christine Daae, you are the love of my life! Will you be my girlfriend?"

Caught in a fit of laughter, Christine knelt to the ground and linked her hands around Raoul's neck. "Yes," she giggled. "Yes, Raoul de Chagny, I will be your girlfriend."

"Yay!" Raoul exclaimed, leaning forward and kissing her. "Now, I can get up." And in one swift motion he got up and picked Christine up, cradling her in his arms as if she weighed nothing.

"You're a goofball," Christine laughed, her arms still around his neck. "But I really don't like being off the ground. Can you put me down?"

"Sorry," Raoul apologised. "I didn't know." He set her down immediately and took her hand in his. "Shall we go back inside now? I'll come to see you in tomorrow's show, and the next, and then I shall be here every day to see you!"

"Every day?" Christine asked dubiously. "Surely your professors wouldn't like that."

"I'm studying English literature," Raoul said happily. "I think they wouldn't mind. I'm being very romantic by coming to see my girlfriend every single day."

"I think that's devotion, not reading works by dead white aristocrats," Christine replied, but her heart was soaring. She could almost forget everything else that had happened today.

Christine and Raoul got ready to go back inside when they heard an angry, agonised shout.

"_Christine! You have betrayed me!_"


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reading! If you want to, leave a review so I know how I'm doing! It's going to start picking up from here, so I hope everyone stays tuned in for what comes next!)

That night, Christine had to tell Raoul about Erik. There wasn't much to tell – but Raoul still got very angry and hugged Christine tightly. With tears in her eyes, Christine whispered, "You won't leave, will you?"

"Leave?" Raoul said in confusion. "Why would I leave when you need me the most? I'm almost tempted to have you move in with me so I can be with you at all times!"

"Frederick left," Christine said quietly.

"I'm not Frederick," Raoul replied immediately. "He clearly didn't care about you enough. Christine, I don't care how many death threats this Erik sends me. I'm not leaving my little Lotte, especially not now."

Christine smiled. "I knew I was right not to give up on you," she commented. "But Raoul, I do have to warn you – these threats that Erik sends, they're not normal."

"I hardly expect death threats would be normal," Raoul said, frowning at Christine. "I'm prepared, Chris."

"I mean, when Fred got them," Christine continued, "they were really scary. One time there was a human skull delivered to his doorstep with a picture of the two of us, only there were red cross marks over his eyes like he was dead. And then one time there was a clipping of an obituary in the paper of an eighty-seven-year-old man named Frederick, and in red letters there was a note that said 'YOU NEXT'."

Raoul started to laugh. "Don't laugh!" Christine exclaimed in fright. "This is serious, Raoul!"

"I know," Raoul said, his laughter subsiding slightly. "But the threats you're describing seem so childish. You can get a human skull anywhere around Halloween time. Every store sells red pens. And how much effort does it take to find a dude named Frederick who died? It all seems a bit immature, if you ask me. I'm taking the threat of this guy stalking you seriously, Christine, I really am. But the threats that will in all probability be levied against me seem silly."

"You're – you're not scared?" Christine stammered.

"Not at all," Raoul said confidently. "If that's the best this Erik fellow can do, then I'm not scared one bit. I'm more worried about _you_, Christine."

"I don't think Erik wants to hurt me, though," Christine mused. "I'm not sure what he wants. But I don't think he'd hurt me – not in the way he might hurt you. And besides, when you say that his threats seem childish, that almost makes him more… I don't know… likeable. Like he's a child with a crush who doesn't want anyone else to talk to the girl he likes."

"Christine," Raoul said carefully, "I don't want to burst your bubble, but I don't think a man who stalks a young teenage girl for two years and sends death threats to her boyfriends is completely harmless. You have to be careful, even if he seems nice."

She sighed. "I'll be careful, Raoul," she said. "I promise."

Raoul didn't seem quite reassured, though.

The rest of Raoul's family took the train back home to London that night, but Raoul stayed with Christine. He was able to walk freely into her dorm despite the 'no boys' rule because he looked enough like a girl that even Joseph Buquet would flirt with him. The only thing he was told to do was to sign in as a guest – so he put down his sister's name and texted his sister to warn her, should she get any calls. (Victoire just responded with a winky face, which made Raoul blush for a solid ten minutes.) Meg told Christine that she could bunk in with Jammes or Carly, but Christine promised Meg that she wouldn't make Meg feel like a third wheel in her own bedroom.

Meg finally did decide to stay. Her reasoning for this was simple: "I'm still green and I can't get this damn paint off, so I'd rather not stain someone else's pillow."

"You should have just gone for Glinda," Christine said as she and Meg left the bathroom in pyjamas (having changed in the bathroom, since Raoul was there). "At least sparkles come off eventually."

"Yeah, well," Meg said irritably, her black hair soaking wet but her normally peach skin still slightly green, "I can't sing as high as Glinda can. And besides, Glinda doesn't have 'Defying Gravity'."

"She does a bit," Christine pointed out.

"Not the good part," Meg countered. "Besides, this paint has to come off eventually." But she didn't sound too convinced. "I mean, Idina Menzel looks normal now, and she had to paint this stuff on eight times a week."

"Hey, at least you didn't have to dye your hair on top of making yourself green," Christine said optimistically. "Then you really would have to live with Elphaba for a while."

"True," Meg agreed. "But still – hearing about Raoul all these years, and the first time I meet him, I'm green."

"I'm sure he won't hold it against you," Christine laughed.

They walked into their room, where Raoul was sitting on Christine's beanbag chair. "Hey," he said cheerfully, looking up from his phone. "The first death threat came through."

"I – sorry, what?" Christine said, taken aback.

Raoul looked at her very pleasantly. "Right here," he said, holding up a picture. Christine walked up to him and took the picture. It was along the same lines as the things that had been sent to Frederick: a picture of Raoul kissing Christine with his face marked out in red ink.

Christine's heart began to sink. "They're only going to get worse," she said pessimistically, looking at Raoul. "I swear, I didn't want this to happen. I don't blame you if you leave, Raoul. I hardly think I'm worth your life."

"Look at me, Christine," Raoul laughed. "Do I _look_ scared? This is child's play. I think this guy doesn't have the guts to kill anyone so he just wants to frighten me away through empty threats." He stood up to plant a kiss on Christine's forehead. "And I do happen to think you're worth my life," he added in a whisper.

Meg snatched the picture from Christine's hands. "There's nothing written on it besides – wait, hang on, there's a signature." She squinted at the signature on the back of the picture. "It says 'Angel of Music'." Meg looked up, her expression more confused than anything. "What does that mean?"

"Angel of Music?" Christine demanded, snatching the picture back from Meg. She studied the signature at the back of the picture. Sure enough, in red ink, was 'Angel of Music'. Her heart skipped a beat. How did he _know_? And if he was an angel sent by her father, why had he waited until now to reveal himself? Papa had _liked_ Raoul. He had _encouraged_ Christine to go out and play with Raoul whenever she wanted to. He had even told Raoul family stories – that's why Raoul called Christine 'Little Lotte'. Papa had played his violin for Raoul, and had even tried to teach Raoul (although Raoul turned out to be better at cello). Why would the Angel of Music suddenly say that Raoul shouldn't be part of Christine's life? And why, if this was the same man, would the Angel say that his name was Erik?

Raoul, who had been watching Christine intently, got up and gently took the picture out of Christine's hands. "Little Lotte already has an Angel of Music," he said quietly. "Her father lives on through her and her alone."

Christine glared at Raoul. "What do you know?" she snapped, pushing him away. "You don't know what it's like to live without your father! You don't know what it's like, waiting every single day for the Angel of Music to come! You don't know what it's like to know that your father couldn't fulfil all of his promises even though he _promised_. Papa _promised_ to send the Angel…"

"I do actually know," Raoul said coldly, straightening his posture and crossing his arms. He looked far more intimidating when his eyes were filled with anger. "My father died last year, Christine, and he made a lot of promises that he couldn't keep. I think the best one that he told me was that he promised that he'd come to every performance that I had, whether I was on the cello or doing a poetry slam. Want to know how many he came to in my life? Oh, right – he came to _one_. He came to one crappy concert when I was fifteen and sitting in the back of the cellos in my orchestra. Christine, parents make a lot of promises that they can't keep. That doesn't mean we hold a grudge against them for the rest of our lives. And it doesn't mean that we hope, irrationally, that they'll fulfil the promises _after they're fucking dead_."

Christine winced. She had never dared to say that her father was dead in such blunt terms, and to hear it from Raoul's mouth was almost worse. But there was something about his tone that made her come to her senses. Angels did exist – she almost had to believe that, or the world became unbearable. But perhaps her Angel of Music did not exist in the way that she wanted it to. Maybe this was just a man who had learned way too much about her and was trying, one last time, to win her over. But who would be this cruel? Who would remind her of her father right after her first performance as a lead in a musical? Who would pretend to be her father, when she still hadn't gotten over losing him?

She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, pushing back any tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "But you know. You must know how you look for any hope at all, no matter how impossible it might be, that they're still with you?"

Raoul's anger seemed to evaporate instantaneously as he put his arms around Christine. "I know," he said compassionately. "But they are with us still. Philippe said that once. They're still with us because we're kind of carrying on their legacy. It's like that one line in _Harry Potter_. Um-"

"'The ones we love never truly leave us'," Meg recited. "He's right, Christine. When you sing, you're keeping your father's musical gift with you. Or when you go and build robots, you're using his ingenuity to figure out things." She paused and pursed her lips. "Sorry, that didn't come out the way I wanted it to. But you share 50% of his DNA, you know? He's still kind of, half there."

Christine nodded. "Thank you," she said meekly. "I'm really sorry. I just – I just got carried away. Maybe. Oh, I don't know. This is all so strange, and I don't know how to deal with any of this."

"I'm sorry for getting mad," Raoul said, hugging her tightly. "I thought I was losing you to this guy. But I'll be with you, supporting you, every step of the way. I'd testify in court if you need me to."

"I don't know if the court would believe me," Christine said, letting out a hollow laugh. "The police certainly didn't."

"I believe you," Raoul said simply. "And I'll protect you, Christine. I won't let him harm you."

Christine smiled shyly. "That's all I need, really," she replied.

"I heard we were apologising, so I'm sorry that I have such an extensive knowledge of _Harry Potter_ that I haven't really heard anything else that's happened because I've been reciting the rest of the book in my head," Meg added. "On a separate note though, we do have two performances tomorrow and it's past midnight so we really should go to bed."

Everyone agreed, so Meg crawled into her bed and Christine attempted (and failed) to get Raoul to take her bed for the night. Not that it mattered tremendously though, because by morning Christine had fallen off her bed and was safely wrapped in Raoul's arms.


	8. Chapter 8

(A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know how I did x)

Despite Erik's prediction, Carly did show up for the next performance, insisting that she was fine. "I don't know what happened," she said confusedly. "I didn't have a sore throat, and Mummy even called for a doctor and said there was nothing wrong. I just couldn't sing." But she clearly could sing today, so Christine was back to being a chorus member. Although Raoul was a bit disappointed that he wouldn't see Christine sing her own solo song, he agreed that it was for the best after watching Christine consume two pizzas out of nerves.

The first show was at 2:30, so the cast had lunch together before going to the theatre to prepare. Meg, who was still green from yesterday's performance, didn't have to use as much green paint to prepare. And, this time, Christine could actually help her since she didn't have as much to prepare for.

"Hey," Joe Buquet said flirtatiously as Meg and Christine left the girls' dressing room. "What were you two doing in there?"

Christine rolled her eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?" she said irritably.

"I'm already ready!" he exclaimed. "I'm handsome and I'm perfect, so really, what else is Fiyero?"

"There are a lot of people who would disagree with you but I really don't have the time to explain why you're wrong," Meg said haughtily.

"Say, have you heard the legend of the masked man?" Joe said, seeing that he was losing the girls' interest.

Against her desire to get out of Joe's presence as quickly as possible, Christine spun around to look at Joe. "What masked man?" she asked, her heart beating a little faster.

Joe grinned, glad to have gotten back the attention. "You've seen the masked man in town, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Christine said. "What do you know about him?"

"He's a monster, is what he is," Joe replied smugly. "He wears a mask because he hasn't got any skin. His eyes glow yellow in the dark. He's practically a ghost because no one knows about him. No one knows where he came from but the _legend_ is that he's on the run from the authorities for killing someone." Joe raised his eyebrows significantly. "And he has a huge lair underneath this entire city where he pulls in victims and _strangles them_."

"Do you just enjoy terrifying people or is this your weird way of flirting?" Meg said angrily, pulling Christine away.

Joe just laughed. "I'm right, though!" he said. "And he's coming for little girls next!"

Once they were safely away from Joe, Christine grabbed Meg's arm and motioned excitedly. "What if Joe knows, though?" she exclaimed. "What if he knows about Erik and you just pulled us away from finding out more?"

"Oh, please," Meg said exasperatedly. "Joe is just repeating rumours about Erik. See, he didn't even know Erik's name. Joe doesn't know anything more than we do. I daresay that we know more than Fancypants University Student Joseph Buquet. He's just making up rumours to keep your attention."

Christine studied her feet very intently, feeling quite stupid now that Meg pointed out that Joe didn't know Erik's name. "Maybe," she murmured.

"At any rate, the show starts in five minutes," Meg said briskly. "There's no time to worry about Joe or Erik now."

The curtain went up, and the show began.

Carly appeared, and as Christine watched her Glinda from her own place as she was playing Munchkin 2, Christine decided that Carly fitted the part much better. Carly was practically a walking Glinda: popular, beautiful, and self-centred. She was much better at playing herself on stage than Christine was at pretending to be Carly on stage.

It was during 'Dancing Through Life' when a thunderous voice echoed all around the theatre: "_Did I not instruct that seat five be left empty for my use_?"

With a jolt, Christine realised that she recognised the voice. It was none other than Erik. "Oh fuck," she swore loudly, not realising that there was a deadly silence. "He's never going to leave me alone!"

"Told you," Joe said, his expression very sober. "He's choosing his next victim now."

"Joe, don't talk like that!" Carly exclaimed, looking very shaken. "Mr. Fermin, take it from the main chorus."

Mr. Fermin, the conductor, nodded at Carly and began the main chorus once again. Carly took a deep breath to sing and –

_CROAK_.

There was loud laughter that echoed all around the theatre. "_Who let a toad on stage_?" Erik roared.

Carly, to her credit, remained composed and nodded to Mr. Fermin. "The chorus," she commanded.

This time, she got a little bit farther in the song before she croaked again. And every time she opened her mouth, she croaked.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mr. Andre, the director of the musical and the drama teacher at the school, came running on stage. "There has been a slight mishap – we will continue the performance in five minutes' time! And the understudy Glinda, Ms. Christine Daae, will be singing the role of Glinda!"

Christine, completely terrified for her life, was about to run off stage, but Erik's voice stopped her. "_For once, you have made the right choice. Christine Daae is a much better singer than that toad_."

All eyes turned to Christine. The blood drained from Christine's face as she shook her head frantically. "No, Carly is way better," she stammered. "Please, leave me alone, I want to go-"

There was more laughter around the theatre. "_One of you has already left_!"

Everyone spun around, looking to see who among their number had left, when Carly screamed. "Joe is gone!"


	9. Chapter 9

(A/N: Since the last chapter was so short I figured I'd go ahead and publish the next one ahead of schedule! Thanks for your continued support – means a lot!)

The moment everyone had scrambled offstage, Carly cornered Christine. "What are you playing at?" she screamed, holding Christine by the collar of her costume.

"I'm not playing at anything!" Christine insisted, her voice trembling. "I don't know what's going on, and I'm just as scared as you!"

"But you knew the voice," Carly accused her. "You're just trying to steal my spotlight!"

Christine set her jaw and glared at Carly. "How dare you!" she said angrily. "You know how badly I get stage fright! And you _know_ I'm only here because of Meg in the first place! I don't want this part and I would rather you sing it but something more is happening here. Erik is following me and I don't know what he _wants_ but I wish he would just leave me in peace!"

"Erik who?" Carly demanded. "What does he want from you? Does he want you to sing? Is that all he wants?"

"I don't know," Christine cried as she sank to the floor. "I don't _know_ what he wants. He's just this voice, this man, and he's been following me for years and I don't know how to get him to _stop_-"

"Christine!"

Raoul had come.

"Christine, it's all right, I'm here," he panted, collapsing to the ground and pulling her close to him in his strong arms. "I'm here. He won't touch you."

"Who the hell are you?" Carly exclaimed, backing away from Raoul. "Are _you _Erik?"

Raoul glared at Carly. "I'm Christine's boyfriend Raoul," he said curtly, before turning his attention back to Christine. "Christine, it's all right. I'm here." He kissed her gently on her forehead.

Carly watched this scene in complete confusion. "So – so Erik is after you," she said hesitatingly. "But then we can't let you go on stage, surely? If he's after you then the last place we want you to be is in the spotlight where he can plainly see you."

"That seems like the safest place, though," Raoul mused, tightening his grip around Christine. "He can't abduct her in front of hundreds of people."

"Maybe," Carly said dubiously. "Have you ever been in a play before, though?"

Raoul shook his head.

"The stage is filled with trapdoors – there's one for when Elphaba comes up in 'No Good Deed'," Carly explained. "I feel like that'd be quite easy to take Christine off stage there, if this guy knows about the trapdoor."

"He's following me," Christine said thickly. "He knows."

Mr. Andre came through. "Christine, get dressed!" he hissed. "The show is starting soon and we're going to start at the beginning of 'Popular' and that devilish Joseph Buquet is nowhere to be found!"

"Just – just go on and perform," Raoul said hesitantly. "I'll wait backstage, right here, so I'll see anything that goes on."

"I will, too," Carly offered. "If I can't sing, I'd rather be useful somehow."

Raoul helped Christine to her feet and to the dressing room. "Go ahead and change," he said. "I'll be right out here if you need me."

"No, wait, Raoul," Christine said, stopping him from closing the door. "You – you don't have to be right next to me but just be in here with me, please?"

"You don't think he'll abduct you from a dressing room?" Raoul asked, turning red.

"He might," Christine said darkly. "I don't know what he's capable of anymore. He made Joseph Buquet disappear in plain sight."

"Right," Raoul said, taking a deep breath and stepping inside the dressing room. The moment Christine started undressing, he turned around. "I'll be right here."

"I'm going to keep talking," Christine said from somewhere behind Raoul. He could hear a skirt fall to the floor. "I'm going to keep talking so you know I'm here since you're apparently too embarrassed to look at your girlfriend."

"I just think this is perhaps a bad time is all!" Raoul insisted, blushing furiously. "Right now, I think my main concern should be protecting you."

"That's fine," Christine said. "I'm okay with it, though. But it's a good thing you're here" – he heard the rustling of another dress – "this damn pink dress is the hardest to get into for some reason. Can you get your embarrassed, cute little butt over here and help me?"

"All right, fine," Raoul said, turning around. Christine hadn't even put on a dress; she was just standing there in her bodysuit, grinning.

"You fell for it," she said happily.

Raoul sighed. "Okay, fine, you've made your point," he said. "You're basically wearing a leotard so it doesn't matter."

Christine nodded. "And I'd rather you watched me so I don't disappear in front of your eyes."

"Point made," Raoul said, as Christine started laughing. "I'm going to hear about this for a while, aren't I?"

"You bet," Christine replied, slipping into her pink dress with very little effort. After she had spun around in the dress enough, she turned to Raoul and put her arms around his neck. "I love you," she said, smiling.

"Love you too," Raoul replied. "I think it's time for you to get out on stage."

"Oh, Raoul," Christine sighed, hugging him tightly. "Why can't we just stay here? We can disappear – I know of a shortcut through here somewhere. We can just disappear, run off, and do something stupid like get married and then live far, far away from any of this."

Raoul's heart skipped a beat. Had Christine just mentioned –

"Christine," he said, kissing the top of her head, "I know. I want to. But – but you have to face problems, you know? Well… okay, how about this, Christine. You finish the show, and then we'll run away and do something stupid like get married."

Christine grinned up blissfully at Raoul and nodded. She put a little pink flower in her hair and took Raoul's hand as they walked out of the dressing room. "I'm not ready," she said shakily once she saw the stage. "But I think I'll be fine."

"I'll be here," Raoul repeated. "I won't let him take you away."

Christine threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered.

She flounced on stage, immediately taking on Glinda's persona. Raoul watched her from the wings and felt pride swelling up inside his heart. Just a few seconds previously and she had been too scared to even change alone; but now there she was, performing as one of the happiest characters ever, and her fear wasn't visible at all! "She's amazing," Raoul sighed in admiration.

"I never noticed," Carly replied, giving Raoul a funny look.

"That's my girlfriend," Raoul said proudly.

"You said that earlier," Carly replied, not seeming to care at all. She watched Christine with a hint of jealousy.

Raoul didn't care. His Christine – his! – was the greatest person on this planet, and no one, not even miserable jealous Carly, could sour this moment. And the most wonderful person on the planet wanted to _marry_ him.

"Get away!" Carly suddenly shouted. Christine looked to the wings in confusion and backed up slightly. "Get away from the trapdoor!"

Christine didn't seem to register Carly's words. She made eye contact with Raoul before the trapdoor opened and she disappeared from the stage.

"_Christine_!" Raoul shouted, running on stage in an attempt to stop her from falling; but it was too late. The trapdoor had been locked shut and she was gone.

Everyone was screaming, but Raoul didn't quite notice why at first. He assumed it was because Christine had disappeared from everyone's very eyes. But only after Meg dragged Raoul away from the trapdoor did he look up.

Christine had been replaced by someone else who hung in the very spot she had vanished from.

A rope was dangling from the ceiling, and at the end of the rope was Joseph Buquet.


	10. Chapter 10

(A/N: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I know I left the last chapter on a bit of a cliffhanger haha. I've changed the rating of the story because I realised that I'm going to be sticking to some themes in the Leroux version but possibly turning it a bit darker. Not to worry though – I won't ever write explicit things; it might be implied but that'll be the extent of it. Just wanted to be safe with the ratings! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Make sure to follow the story and review if you want!)

Meg had to forcefully drag Raoul away from the stage that night. He was a sobbing mess, so the first thing Meg did after getting Raoul away from the stage was call Philippe, Raoul's brother. She didn't know how to help Raoul and was, frankly, just as distraught; but she kept thinking about what her best friend was going through and just got angry. Philippe agreed to drive up and collect Raoul that night, but the police had different plans.

Clearly, Raoul had not taken Christine nor had he killed Joseph Buquet. But as Christine's boyfriend, the police wanted to keep an eye on Raoul as a potential suspect. The police were questioning everybody who had seen Joseph Buquet or Christine Daae before the performance. The poor headmistress of the school had to talk to the press and explain that yes, a student had been murdered, and yes, another student had been abducted. Meanwhile, Raoul was pulled into a questioning room with the chief of police and a detective. Raoul was still softly crying.

"When did you last see Ms. Daae?" the detective began.

"Right before she disappeared," Raoul answered, choking slightly. _Why_ hadn't he been able to save her? Why hadn't he gone down that trapdoor and stopped that bastard Erik in his tracks?

"So you were in the audience?"

"No, I was backstage. She wanted me to be there."

"What is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Daae?"

"She's my girlfriend."

"How long has she been your girlfriend?"

Raoul sighed. "It's complicated."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we sort of dated when we were 13. But then she moved away, and we lost touch. And we started dating again last night when we saw each other again."

The chief of police rolled his eyes. "Would you consider yourself close to Ms. Daae?"

"Of course," Raoul said indignantly. "I'm her _boyfriend_."

"Then are you aware of another man whose relationship to her is unknown?"

Raoul frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"Are you aware that there is another man whom Christine has told her friend Meg Giry about, whose name is Erik?"

"He's the one!" Raoul shouted angrily. "He's been stalking Christine for _years_ and he's the one who killed Joseph Buquet and he's the one who's been sending me death threats and he's the one who kidnapped Christine!" He buried his face in his hands. "And I didn't do anything to stop him. And I _promised_ her." He started to cry again.

"Sir, please, calm down," the detective said in a bored voice. "We need to know everything you know about Erik."

Raoul took a deep, shaky breath, but his body kept going into spasms that he couldn't control. "He apparently started stalking Christine about two years ago," he began, attempting to swallow his fear and sadness. But this was all too much, too soon, and he just wanted Christine here. "She reported it to the police and apparently the police did nothing." The chief of police fidgeted uncomfortably. "Erik always wore a mask. Christine started seeing him everywhere she went, and soon he started sending death threats to her then-boyfriend. Her boyfriend broke up with her because" _because he didn't care about her enough to protect her from this lunatic psycho_ "it became too much for him. And then he continued to stalk her and – and then he sent me a death threat last night. Christine was so scared that she wouldn't let me out of her sight, not even at night, not even in her own freaking room. She was so scared of Erik and she's with him right now and he could be doing anything to her-"

Raoul stopped short. He hadn't really wanted to think about what had befallen Christine since Erik had abducted her. His mind immediately jumped to the worst. She certainly wasn't dead – Raoul wasn't worried about that. But there were much, much worse fates…

"Sir, is that all you know?" the chief of police prompted Raoul, pulling him out of his nightmare. But his life had quickly turned into a nightmare; Christine was gone once again, and Raoul had no way of knowing where she was or how to get her back.

"I don't know any more about Erik," Raoul said dully. "I'm sorry." He looked at the men questioning him, truly looked at them for the first time, and saw that they were both eyeing him suspiciously. "I didn't kidnap her," he said angrily. "I would never do such a thing. I am a _Vicomte_." Suddenly feeling the wrath against Erik, the police, and the world rising in his chest, Raoul stood up and crossed his arms. He easily towered over the short chief of police and, although the detective was tall, he was thin and wouldn't have stood a chance against Raoul. "I am a Vicomte of Chagny," Raoul repeated. "Erik is the man who has stalked my girlfriend for two years. Christine Daae is the love of my life. And, unlike the blessed _police_, I will do everything in my power to find her."

With that, Raoul marched out of the questioning room. The chief of police and the detective seemed too shocked to say anything to stop him.

"Raoul!"

Philippe had arrived and was sitting in the waiting room of the police station. He was practically the mirror image of Raoul, except for his hair, which was light brown. He looked very pale and worried. "Raoul, what happened?"

"The police think I did it," Raoul fumed. "After ignoring Christine's fucking stalker – and they think I did it!"

"They haven't arrested you, though, have they?" Philippe asked worriedly, grabbing his brother's shoulders. "I've called our family lawyer and he'll be here in an hour so you don't have to talk to the police without him."

"Too late," Raoul said. "They pulled me in for questioning already."

Philippe groaned. "What did they ask you?" he demanded. "Did they release you? Have they actually arrested you?"

"They haven't arrested me," Raoul replied. "I'm fine, so far. But they're definitely suspicious of my story." He stomped angrily on the ground, unable to take out his frustration in any other way. "But Meg can back up everything I say."

"Raoul, you're not answering all of my questions," Philippe said in a panicked voice. "Did they release you from questioning?"

When Raoul did not immediately respond, Philippe slammed a hand to his forehead. "Let me guess," he said. "You did something really stupid."

"I am Christine's boyfriend!" Raoul exclaimed hotly. "I care about her more than anyone else in the world! I wouldn't hurt her, _ever_. Hell, she pulled me into her dressing room so Erik wouldn't abduct her and I turned my back so she wouldn't have me gawking at her while she changed!"

"Oh my God," Philippe exhaled, looking far more stressed. "You marched out because you got annoyed with the police, didn't you? Raoul. Raoul, are you hearing me? Yes, it's wrong that they had you in there for questioning without a lawyer but if you're considered a suspect then you should do everything in your power to _not_ anger the police."

"Why should I help them?" Raoul exclaimed. "They did jack shit when Christine needed them to protect her!"

"And if you keep up that attitude, you are going to be _arrested_," Philippe replied. "Raoul, this is serious! I know this is hard for you but you can't be arrested! Oxford could kick you out!"

Raoul took a deep breath. "I don't care," he declared. "I'd do anything for Christine."

Philippe looked like he had held in about three very frustrated screams; instead, his hands started balling into fists. "_Raoul_," he said, his voice shaking. "I know how much you care about Christine – I really do. But you need to think _logically_. How much help will you be to her if you're in jail? What if she needs you to help find her, and the police have arrested you because you've annoyed them?"

Raoul glared at the ground. He really didn't want Philippe to be right. The problem was, Philippe usually was right. But Raoul did not want to help the police. It was really their fault that they hadn't arrested Erik a long time ago for stalking a young teenage girl. And what if Christine appeared dead in the streets, raped and beaten and naked? Would the police care then? Would they feel just slightly guilty then, if they had known that they had spent all their time chasing her teenage boyfriend instead of chasing the real culprit? Would they know that they could have stopped the real culprit if they'd just listened?

But Philippe really was right. Raoul was no use to Christine if he was in jail. After all, he planned to go and find her that night. And if he was in jail, he wouldn't be able to save her. He hadn't been able to stop Erik from kidnapping her; but he could sure as hell make sure that Erik didn't hurt her.

"Raoul!" Philippe shouted. "Raoul, are you listening to _anything_ I'm saying?"

Raoul gulped. "Yeah," he said in a very small voice. "You're – you're right, Philippe." Tears started welling at the corners of his eyes. "I'm just so scared of what he'll do to her."

Philippe sighed and shook his head. "Raoul, there's nothing you can do about that," he said. "You need to be more concerned about yourself."

"I'll be fine," Raoul insisted, hastily wiping away his tears. "They can do whatever they want to me but just – if I know that Erik has even _touched_ her-"

"Look," Philippe said in a fake, cheery voice, "if this guy was planning on killing Christine, he probably would have already done it. So there's nothing for you to prevent at this point."

"_What_?" Raoul screeched, his heart plummeting to his stomach. "Why the fuck would you say that? You thought that would _help_?"

And Raoul collapsed to the ground, sobbing hysterically. All he could picture was Erik forcing Christine into bed and ripping off her clothes and –

No. He couldn't torment himself like this. He had to think outside the box. He had to help Christine in whatever way he could.

"Lord Raoul de Chagny?"

Raoul looked up. He wasn't used to being addressed as 'lord'. "Er – yes?"

It was the chief of police. "We would like to formally apologise," he said, slightly abashed. "We checked the records, and Christine Daae did report a stalker. We did not look into it because the most description she had was a 'masked man', so we assumed she was making it up for attention."

Philippe elbowed Raoul in his ribs to prevent him from saying how utterly ridiculous and sexist the police had acted. Instead, Raoul swallowed his feminist anger and said simply, "I was telling the truth."

"We should like to add that you are not a suspect any longer," the chief of police added. "You are free to go, sir."

Philippe sighed in relief and put his arm around Raoul. "Let's go home," he said gently.

"No," Raoul protested. "I want to stay and look for her."

"Raoul, I am about two seconds away from strangling you," Philippe said calmly. "We're going home."

Raoul kicked and screamed all the way home, but Philippe was used to dealing with Raoul whenever he was determined to do something; so Raoul did eventually get dragged back to London. But Raoul had done something that he hadn't even told Philippe.

He had Christine's phone, and he wasn't sure how, but he was going to use it to find Erik and get Christine back.


	11. Chapter 11

(A/N: Hi everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I'm having a lot of fun writing this :-) Let me know if you enjoyed the chapter and I'll be back next week with more Phantom shenaningans!)

Christine felt herself falling as the ground disappeared from under her feet. Had Raoul seen something and tried to get her off stage? Just as the trapdoor shut, she heard Raoul scream. She screamed too, realising that Raoul was not there to catch her. Where was she falling? Could anyone even hear her?

But someone had caught her. The person immediately started running through a dark tunnel, an area of the school Christine didn't even know.

"Put me down," Christine ordered, her heart thumping.

But the person didn't respond. Christine gulped; if this had been Raoul, he would have put her down right away. Her heart started beating very fast. Where was she going? What was going on? And where was Raoul?

"I demand you stop and tell me where you're taking me!" Christine exclaimed.

"I'm taking you to my home," said the man carrying her, and with a jolt of fear, Christine realised that it was Erik.

"Erik," she said in dread. "What do you want? Can't you just leave me alone and take me _back_?"

"Perhaps you will understand in a few moments," Erik said mysteriously, his black hood falling back to reveal his masked face.

Christine frowned at the man who had stalked her for years. She couldn't see his face at all, but he seemed less frightening up close. If only she could see his face…

"Why do you wear a mask?" Christine asked curiously.

Erik shook his head frantically, as if he was a dog shaking off water. "I am a monster," he said sadly. "I hope you never see me without the mask."

Christine pursed her lips. If anything, his statement just made her more determined. What had happened to his face? Why would he say that he was a monster? Surely being a monster did not lie in someone's face but rather their soul?

"Why did you tell me that you were my Angel of Music?" Christine queried as Erik set her down.

"Because I can be," Erik offered. "I noticed that you were in need of an Angel."

"But – but you're not an angel," Christine said. "You're just a man."

"That I am."

Frowning, Christine followed Erik – she had lost track of which way they had come through the dark tunnels – up the stairs into the front room of a house. "Wait, where are we?" she said, confusedly looking around at the house. There were candles lit everywhere; but all the blinds were drawn shut so the entire house was shrouded in darkness.

"This is where I live," Erik said, almost shyly. "Do you like it?"

Remembering what Raoul had said about Erik being childish but dangerous, Christine backed away slightly. "Why have you brought me here?"

"You were going to run away," Erik replied simply. "I heard you speak with de Chagny. I didn't want you to leave."

"So you kidnapped me and brought me to your house so no one else can find me," Christine finished, feeling much more scared now. She looked for the doors in the house, but the front door's handle was broken off. Her mind immediately reminded her about all the serial killers who would trap women in their houses and then terrify them with locked doors, dead ends, and rooms with no windows.

Seeming to follow Christine's train of thought, Erik said, "I'm not going to hurt you, Christine. I just don't want you to leave."

"I wanted to leave because of _you_," Christine retorted, swallowing back any fear that she had. "You were stalking me and I didn't want to live my life in fear of you."

Erik looked very taken aback. "You're – you're scared of me?"

Christine raised her eyebrows. "Why would you think anything else?" she exclaimed derisively. "You've followed me for two years, sent _death threats_ to my boyfriends, made Carly croak like a toad even though she wasn't sick, and talked to me where I couldn't see you in places that are supposed to be only mine. And you literally just _abducted_ me!"

"I don't want to hurt you," Erik repeated.

"Well you sure as hell are," she snorted. "You sent a death threat to Raoul within an hour of me kissing him!"

Erik crossed his arms and said very coldly, "He doesn't deserve you."

"What, and you think you do?" Christine retorted angrily. "No one gets to decide who I deserve, and who deserves to be my boyfriend. That decision is _mine_."

Erik said nothing, but walked away briskly. A moment later, Christine heard him – or, at least, presuming it was Erik and no one else lived here – playing the piano.

Against her better judgement, Christine followed the sound of the piano into a very grand room with velvet seats and a grand piano. On one of the seats was a little music box that had a monkey with little symbols on it. Christine walked towards the music box and looked at the monkey sadly. The monkey looked captive, too; its smile was frozen and unfeeling, and its hands were held aloft in a stiff position. "We're both captives, I suppose," she murmured.

Erik was still playing the piano, completely oblivious of Christine's presence. Christine listened to the music, but she couldn't recognise the tune. It was almost hypnotic, and she found herself swaying to the music in a weird, rhythmic dance. She tried to snap out of it. "What is that you're playing?" she asked, in an attempt to get Erik talking again – and, perhaps, to get him to stop playing the music.

"I composed it," Erik replied shortly, barely stopping from his playing.

Christine sat on one of the little velvet pillows and stopped to evaluate her situation. She clearly couldn't get out of the house; none of the doors had handles and the windows seemed to have been glued shut. However, Erik did seem quite harmless. Perhaps, if she asked him nicely, she would be able to leave his house. Or, maybe, if she promised she wouldn't leave, he would let her return home.

"You know," Christine said musingly, "I'm going to fall very behind in schoolwork if I stay here for very long."

Erik didn't look up or acknowledge that Christine had even spoken.

"Schoolwork is really important to me," she continued, watching Erik's face closely. The problem was, she couldn't see his face. He might have made several expressions but she just couldn't _tell_. "And I might even lose my place as robotics team captain if I'm gone for too long. They were already angry that I had to take off a few nights to do Wicked. It's competition season for robotics, and I have to travel to London in a couple weeks."

"You'll be back in time for your competition," Erik said nonchalantly.

"No, but if my grades fall behind, then I won't be allowed to go to the competition," Christine insisted. "And if I miss two weeks' worth of school, then I will fall way behind in all my classes."

Erik said nothing.

Slightly frustrated, Christine watched him play piano before deciding that it was worth a shot. "I can't really leave anyways," she said. "I've got school, and exams coming up, and I've got robotics competitions. I really can't leave this town. I have too much going on."

Still, Erik said nothing. Christine frowned. She had almost been sure that promising to stay in town would make Erik return her.

Christine sat on the little velvet cushion and watched Erik play. She couldn't even see his eyes through the mask, which covered his forehead and the left side of his face. He looked maybe like he was in his early fifties, but she couldn't tell for sure with that damned mask. She had a wild idea that her father had faked his death but still missed her and this was her father, but perhaps the cancer had mutilated his face. And as soon as she had the idea, she dismissed it; there had been no reason for her father to fake his death. They had enough money and he had no enemies that Christine knew of. So Christine watched Erik, this man who she somehow knew but couldn't ever picture because he wore a mask.

Well, there was really nothing to lose.

Christine got up carefully, so as not to disturb Erik, and in one swift motion pulled off the mask.

Erik screeched and immediately went to cover his face, but not before Christine saw – sagging, torn skin that was red in some parts and pale in others. It almost looked as if he'd been burned, or as if he'd been the victim of an acid attack. There were veins sticking out from his head, entwining as if they were part of his brain. "Damn you!" he shouted. "You weren't content, were you? You _had_ to go beyond your boundaries and look! Well here I am, the Angel in Hell!" He removed his hand from his face to reveal a pale eye with no pupil in it at all. "Here I am!"

Although Christine was shocked, it was Erik's reaction that scared her more. He wore a mask to cover up his face – and yet, Christine had seen plenty of people with strange faces who did not wear masks. She almost felt sorry for Erik, that he thought so dismally of himself that he felt the need to cover up his face with a mask. The mask made him more terrifying, Christine thought. Without his mask he just looked… human.

"Is that why you wear a mask?" she asked in a very small voice, turning over the white mask in her hands.

Erik glared at Christine. "Yes," he fumed. "Give it back!"

"Why? There's no need for a mask."

Erik's face suddenly brightened. "You – you think?"

"If it's something you were born with or something that someone did to you," Christine began, "then there's no reason for you to be ashamed of it. It took me a long time to love myself but I do now. But wearing a mask isn't going to help you get used to your own face. You need to love yourself."

Erik started to laugh. "So you do love me!" he exclaimed joyfully. "I knew it – I knew you loved me!"

Christine backed up. "Wait – what?"

"You love me!" Erik said happily. "You aren't scared of my face! You just said that you loved me!"

"I said that _you_ need to love _yourself_ enough to not wear a mask," Christine clarified, backing away from Erik as he started to run to hug her. "I don't even know who you are."

Erik stopped in his tracks. "But you do," he said earnestly. "You have known me for two years, Christine Daae. You understand now! I was shunned at birth because of my face but you – you have shown me kindness. You see my face and you do not find fault in it. You have accepted me."

"I just wanted to see your face," Christine said in a very small voice, crawling away from Erik.

"You must promise," Erik said, moving forward and grabbing Christine's hands in his sweaty, spindly fingers. "You must promise that you will no longer see Raoul. You and I have a love that cannot be put out!"

Christine yanked her hands out of his grasp and wiped them on Glinda's dress. "What the hell!" she exclaimed. "I've known Raoul since my childhood! I love him! You've _stalked _me – you don't know me, either. You just see who you want me to be." She backed away from Erik until she was as far away as she could be.

Erik sighed sadly and turned away from Christine. "We will see," he said. "We cannot return tonight, for it is too late. But we will return tomorrow morning."

"I want to go," Christine said shakily. "I want to leave now. Take me back."

"If we leave now, we will have to go back through the school," Erik said. "I cannot risk anyone finding me. I will be hunted."

"What, you think you'd be hunted because of your face?" Christine asked, raising an eyebrow.

Erik shrugged uncomfortably. "That and perhaps a few other things," he said enigmatically.

"Yeah," Christine agreed. "They may want you for kidnapping a teenage girl as well, you paedophile."

"I didn't kidnap you!" Erik straightened up and grabbed the mask from Christine. He put it back on and with it assumed a different, enigmatic air. "I am not what you claim I am."

"You took me somewhere against my will. That is kidnapping. And in case it hadn't escaped your notice but I was sixteen when you started stalking me. That's paedophilia."

Erik sighed. "We return tomorrow morning."

It was about as good as it would get, Christine figured. And she was scared of angering Erik even more. What had he done? He didn't seem to think that kidnapping her was a crime; so what other crimes had he committed? Maybe tax evasion, since he lived in a house with no doors and probably didn't pay electricity? Or – had he lured other young girls here? Had he killed them – or worse? Was Christine going to open a door and find the mutilated bodies of young girls in a closet?

She shook the thoughts out of her mind. Christine could only accept her situation, remain on her guard, and hope that Erik kept his promise. So she attempted to pass the time by staring at the monkey until Erik said that he had made her bed.

Christine gulped. She hadn't thought about this, and Erik was clearly delusional…

"Where am I sleeping?"

"The guest room," Erik replied, pointing her to a bedroom. "If you want to see my bedroom you are welcome to."

Everything in Christine's body and mind screamed no, but she found herself saying "sure". She followed Erik down the hall and watched him open his door to another room that had nothing but a coffin and a few blankets.

"You sleep in a coffin?" Christine said dubiously.

"It reminds me that I am living as one already dead," Erik said. "A bit odd, I will grant you."

"It's – yeah, I guess," Christine said, but as she walked away and into the room with an actual bed, she began to feel sorry for Erik.

"If you would prefer me to stay in your room, I can," Erik offered hopefully. "For protection."

"No," Christine said firmly. Clearly Erik didn't understand that Christine needed Raoul for protection from Erik. The last thing she wanted was Erik constantly around while she slept.

She was about to shut the door but realised that she could not: it was a swinging door that had absolutely no handles. If she slammed it shut, it just swung open the other way. Now slightly terrified, Christine got into bed but tried to stay awake. Everything seemed too odd, and Erik seemed far too considerate for a stalker. Okay, so he hadn't put her down when she asked to be put down; but he had refrained from laying a hand on her. But what was the catch?

Christine's attempts to stay awake failed, and she ended up falling asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. She woke up when someone came in, rustling the sheets. Christine looked up and saw – no, it couldn't be – Raoul! Raoul had come to rescue her! He swiftly carried her away from Erik's lair and onto a train, to a grand manor, which he claimed was his house but Christine thought was surely Versailles. Raoul brought her to the fluffiest bed she'd ever slept on and he kept her safe in his arms. She woke up again, to Raoul cuddling her, and she breathed a sigh of relief; she was safe, in Raoul's home, and she had been rescued. They were both lying in bed while Raoul gently caressed Christine's side, and with a contented sigh Christine reached up to stroke Raoul's hair.

Her hand caressed a mask.

Christine screamed and sat bolt upright. She was still in her leotard, but she still felt completely naked. She wrapped the blankets around her and jumped off the bed, away from Erik. "Get out!" she screamed. "Get the fuck out!"

Erik jumped out. He was still dressed in all black.

"_GET THE FUCK OUT_!"

"Christine, my love," he said gently, attempting to reach for her.

"_I AM NOT SAYING THIS AGAIN! GET – OUT!_"

Erik seemed to have something on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't speak. He stormed out of the room, swearing as he went.

Christine was shaking everywhere and, for comfort more than anything, she took the blanket and wrapped it around herself, pretending that it really was Raoul right there to comfort her. "Raoul," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I need you." But he couldn't hear her. Of course he couldn't; he was far away, asleep in bed, probably exhausted from trying to find her.

The sun was just rising. In just a few hours, Erik would take her back if he kept his promise. But Christine still felt vulnerable and afraid, afraid that she would never see Raoul again, afraid that she would never be free again; and she sat down on the bed again and started to cry.


	12. Chapter 12

(A/N: Hey guys! Hope I didn't make you wait too long for the next chapter – it's been hectic around here! Anyways, leave a review if you'd like and be sure to follow this story for updates!)

Raoul didn't sleep a wink. He stayed up all night with Christine's phone in his hands, searching for any clue that he could use to find her. The longest part of the night was attempting to get Christine's phone code. He tried her birthday, then her father's birthday, then Meg's birthday (after stalking Meg on Facebook but feeling too weird to actually add her as a friend), and even Madame Giry's birthday (whom he found through Meg's Facebook). He tried JK Rowling's birthday, Ron Weasley's birthday (Christine's favourite character in Harry Potter), and even Tchaikovsky's birthday (her favourite composer). Christine's phone shut down for half an hour while Raoul thought of other passcodes. Finally, when it turned back on again, he tried one last code: his birthday.

The phone unlocked.

"Oh, of course," Raoul whispered, feeling tears come to his eyes. Christine kept him in her mind even before they'd met again. He loved her so much it hurt.

But it was down to business now. Raoul checked all of Christine's social media. Twitter had nothing; Tumblr had nothing; and not even her Snapchat had anything. Christine's last Instagram picture had been one of the two of them, with the caption "So glad to have this dork back in my life! Love you 3"

Raoul tried not to stare at Christine's face and wonder how long it would be until he saw her again. He checked through all her apps, going as far back as last year to find any trace, any way, to check where she was. But there was nothing. He checked her blog and all he found was one post that dated to two years ago saying, "anyone have any tips on how to deal with stalkers? reported it to police but still nothing". Everyone who responded just said "stay safe", or things along those lines; and no one seemed to have a blog that would be remotely connected to Erik.

And that was it. She had nothing on there that would even give him a glimpse of her whereabouts. And really, the things that Raoul saw were just things that he already knew about Christine, like her favourite ice cream. The only thing that he found was his contact name surrounded in pink hearts. And as romantic and cute as that was, that did not help Raoul in the slightest.

Raoul was just starting to fall asleep when Christine's phone started to buzz. It was an unknown number. Raoul jolted awake and answered the phone shakily. "Hello?"

"_Do not attempt to speak to her again._"

Raoul clenched his hand into a fist and glared at the phone. "Erik."

"_Raoul de Chagny_," Erik said contemptuously.

"Where is she? What have you done to her?" Raoul demanded.

"_She is safe with her Angel of Music; but if you truly care about her then you will never speak to her again_."

"She'll make that decision on her own," Raoul spat. "You can't order me around. You don't scare me."

There was crackling laughter. "_That won't last, little boy_."

The call ended.

"Little boy, indeed!" Raoul punched his pillow. "Fuck Erik," he said bitterly. "Fuck him." He glared at Christine's phone.

Wait a second. He called her.

Raoul quickly looked at the caller ID. It was unknown. But he knew a few things about tracking calls. He plugged Christine's phone into his computer and started to type.

His phone started ringing.

"If this is you, you bastard, Erik, you can just go f-"

"Raoul, it's m-me."

"Christine!" Raoul's countenance immediately changed. "Oh my God you're alive. I'm so sorry – I thought you were Erik calling again. Where are you? Are you safe? Can I come get you?"

"I'm at the p-police station," Christine said shakily. She sounded extremely upset and frightened. "Raoul, c-can you come as s-soon as you c-can, p-please?"

"I'm in London," Raoul said, jumping out of bed and quickly dressing. "I'll be there in half an hour."

"Okay."

"Do you want me to stay on the line?" Raoul offered as he hopped into his jeans. "I'll ramble at you if you want me to."

"I'm at a payphone," Christine said quietly. "I'm making this call with 10p and I don't know how much that gets me."

"Maybe like ten minutes," Raoul replied, rushing to the bathroom to brush his tousled hair. "I've no idea, actually. I haven't used a payphone ever."

"Can you just keep talking until the money runs out?"

"Of course," Raoul said immediately, scribbling a note to Philippe that he'd gone to fetch Christine. His brain was miraculously clear as he sneaked out with his wallet and his coat. After a moment of debate, Raoul sneaked into the garage and took the car. He would feel better knowing that he was travelling as fast as he could to get to Christine. "I had a sleepless night, Christine. But I do have your phone – that's how Erik called me. I spent a lot of time looking through all your apps. I hope you don't mind. I was just trying to find a way to find you; I didn't want to invade your privacy or anything. By the way, how long has your passcode been my birthday? Because that's really cute and I love you. Christine, I love you so much. And I would have stayed in town but you know, the police thought I'd kidnapped you! They thought I was behind it somehow. And Philippe showed up and shouted at me for shouting at the police. I was acting rather ridiculous, I'll grant, but I guess it'll be a funny story when this is all over. I'll have to tell you the full story once I-"

The line went dead. Raoul's hand started trembling as he looked at the phone. But Christine was back and he was going to be there as fast as he could. He managed to get to town without getting lost once (a personal record for him). Luckily, he also knew the to the police station (and saw a sign) and made it to the front door, snatching a parking spot right in front. He spotted Christine in the waiting room, two police officers standing guard over her.

Raoul ran inside and, without waiting to introduce himself to the police officers, gathered Christine in his arms in one fluid motion. "I'm here, love," he said, rocking her back and forth as he sat down on a chair.

"She hasn't said anything," one of the officers said, looking at Raoul. "The only thing she's said since we found her is 'I need Raoul'."

"Raoul," Christine whispered. She looked up at him as her bottom lip started to quiver. "You're here," she said, her eyes starting to water. Raoul kissed her forehead as she buried her head in his chest and started sobbing. Raoul let her cry, but he didn't want to say anything except words of comfort. The last thing he wanted to do to his clearly traumatised girlfriend was press her for information about the past twenty-four hours. He just rubbed her back as she cried.

She was still in her frilly pink Glinda dress.

"I'm here," Raoul repeated, running a hand through her curly hair, which was now matted and dishevelled. "You're safe now, love."

After a few minutes, Christine stopped crying and looked at Raoul. She looked absolutely miserable. Raoul kissed the top of her forehead. "I'm gonna kill whoever did this to you," he murmured, pulling her to his chest.

"No," Christine hiccupped. "I don't want you getting in trouble."

Raoul managed a smile. "All right, I won't get in trouble," he said. "I'll stay out of trouble just for you. How's that?"

"Raoul – can I talk to Raoul in private?" Christine asked, turning to the officers.

"Of course," one of them said. "But can we record what you say? Legally, we have to know what happened to you."

"I was kidnapped by a man in a mask," Christine said, straightening up slightly. "I don't know where I went. Now can I talk to Raoul in private?"

The officers sighed in unison and shook their heads. "Go ahead," one of them said. "But you will have to tell us what happened – in full detail."

"I will," Christine promised. "But – but I'm not ready."

"You don't have to say anything right now," Raoul said, kissing Christine's temple. "No one can make you say anything you don't want to." He glared at the officers, daring them to contradict him.

"You can talk to him in private," one of the officers conceded. "We'll take you to a private room."

They showed Raoul and Christine into an office and shut the door behind them.

Raoul turned to Christine. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," he said, even though he desperately wanted to know.

"I need to tell you," Christine said, taking a few shaky breaths. "I don't want to talk to strangers about this. I just want you. Just – I just need your presence, if anything. I need to know that you're still on my side."

Raoul smiled slightly and put his hands on Christine's shoulders. "I always will be," he said softly. "If you're truly ready, then talk at your own pace. I'll listen."

"Just – just promise me something before I start," Christine said hesitantly. "Promise you won't do something stupid."

In spite of himself, Raoul started to grin. "What, do something stupid like marry you?"

That got Christine to smile. "I mean, like, kill someone," she said. "I think I would want you to do something stupid like marry me."

"Well, I won't kill anyone," Raoul said. "I can't even kill spiders; I put them on tissues and set them on the ground outside. I don't possess the facilities to kill anyone." He shuddered as he remembered Joseph Buquet's hanging body. He couldn't even imagine how anyone would go about taking someone else's life.

"I trust you," Christine said simply.

"I love you," Raoul replied, stroking her cheek.

Christine smiled slightly and took a deep breath. "Raoul… it was Erik. I'm sure you already knew that though."

Raoul nodded.

"He took me through all these tunnels, and I wasn't really sure where I was," she continued. "But we finally got to a house. There were candles all around but all the windows were glued shut and none of the doors had handles." She took a deep shaky breath. "Erik was playing the piano. I took off his mask and – and he screamed at me something terrible. His face is just disfigured – it really isn't bad. But he's been shunned for it." She looked at Raoul sadly. "I pitied him, Raoul."

Raoul bit back anything intelligent he had to say about why Christine shouldn't feel pity for a man who has stalked her for two years. Instead, he just nodded, prompting her to continue.

"But he mistook my pity for love," Christine said. "He thought I loved him back. Obviously I don't. But – but he left me alone for a little bit. And – and then –"

Christine choked and started to cry again. Raoul's heart froze, and he just knew that Erik had done something to his beloved Christine. Raoul immediately hugged her. He couldn't do much now because what had happened to Christine was in the past; but he could protect her from the memories just by being there. And if Erik even dared come through that window –

"I'm okay," Christine said, her voice muffled.

Raoul let her go and took both of her hands. "Okay," he said. "Any time you want to stop, you can, okay?"

"I need to keep going. I need you to know." She took a deep breath. "Erik said he made up a bed for me and I apparently fell asleep but – but I got confused and I had a dream about you. I – I dreamt that you rescued me and took me back to your home and I didn't know I woke up again and I thought you were there next to me and – and – I don't know what happened but I woke up and he was – in – my bed."

Raoul's heart started beating very fast. He could only imagine what had happened next. Christine inevitably realising that Erik was not Raoul, and then – had she screamed? Had Erik left when he heard her distress? Had he done something else to her? Had he made her stay quiet and go along with his sick plan? Raoul's grip on Christine's hands tightened slightly.

Christine started to sob again. "Raoul," she cried, "I don't know what happened and I'm scared because I think I know exactly what happened."

He felt like crying, too. But he couldn't; he had to be strong for Christine. She reached out for him, and in that moment she looked like the child who had cried when she first learned of her father's impending death. Raoul swiftly wrapped her in his arms and let her cry on his chest as long as she needed to. "I'm never letting go," he said, his throat slightly constricted with the effort of holding back his own tears.

"Is that a promise?"

Raoul kissed Christine's forehead gently, trying not to let his tears fall on her face. "Yes, it is."


	13. Chapter 13

(A/N: Hi guys! I'm really sorry it's been a while since I updated! I promise I didn't forget about this story – I just haven't had time to write with exams and travels. I'll be updating more frequently now that summer has officially begun – woo! Hope you guys like this chapter and make sure you review!)

Christine asked if Raoul could tell the police for her, but the police were very reluctant to let him do so. Raoul shouted at them for a bit, but they still were unhelpful. Christine finally sat down in a room, insisting that Raoul be by her side – so the police noted Raoul as her lawyer – but she couldn't tell the whole story without bursting into tears. Finally, when the police got fed up, Raoul tried to explain what happened to Christine as best as he could. But his descriptions didn't help the situation: although he wasn't being as emotional, he was still too vague.

"We can't prove that he raped her," an officer told Raoul. "First of all, we don't have any medical evidence. We could get medical evidence but neither of you have consented to that."

"I don't want to know," Christine said shakily.

"She doesn't need to be violated any more than she has," Raoul said viciously.

The police officer rolled his eyes. "So both of you are clearly obtuse. All right, well, secondly, she can't tell us where this Erik lives or how she got to his house. We can't gather evidence from the scene of the alleged crime. Thirdly, even she claims that she was clothed when she discovered that this Erik was in her bed. We have absolutely no reason to believe that she just disappeared of her own accord and has to explain it away somehow."

"How can you say that?" Raoul exclaimed, completely distraught. "She comes back with matted hair and is on the verge of a nervous breakdown and you want me to believe that she made it up herself?"

"I don't care what you believe," the officer said. "I'm just telling you that legally, there's no backing. There isn't even anyone named Erik in this entire town. And while we can confirm that she filed a report against a masked man two years ago, we cannot find out the identity of the man nor can we prove that the threats did not stop."

"She's so traumatised she can't even tell you what happened," Raoul said furiously. "You think this was just her own doing?"

"Plenty of women claim to be raped and just have disappeared of their own accord because they've had an unexplained nervous breakdown," the officer said nonchalantly.

Raoul nearly punched him. Luckily, he kept his cool and called the Chagny family lawyer (ignoring his 21 missed calls from Philippe). But no matter how much Raoul or the Chagny family lawyer shouted at the police, the police did not change their minds. Within the day, they had ruled Christine's disappearance something she did as a fit of insanity and Joseph Buquet's death an accident.

Finally, after leaving the police station, Raoul decided to call Philippe back.

"_Where the – what the – worried sick – YOU SAID – POLICE STATION – CHRISTINE – COULD HAVE BEEN A TRAP –_"

"Calm down," Raoul sighed. "I'm with Christine and we're heading back to her dorm so she can get cleaned and changed."

"No," Christine gulped. "I can't go back there. You can grab my stuff. Tell Meg – no, bring Meg."

"Christine," Raoul said, ignoring Philippe's shouts on the other end, "where are you going to get cleaned up and changed?"

Christine shrugged.

"Hey, Phil," Raoul said. "I've got an idea."

"Raoul, I swear to God if you have another stupid idea I've _had_ it with you – always filled with these harebrained ideas – I'm so _done_ with dealing with your foolish antics…"

"Can Christine live with us?"

The line crackled as Philippe breathed heavily into his phone. "I wasn't expecting that," he finally admitted. "That's actually quite smart. But how will she pay for everything?"

"Don't be dumb," Raoul said sharply. "We'll pay for it."

"How kind of you to volunteer my money," Philippe sighed. "All right. She can come live with us. We've got enough rooms, I guess."

"YES!" Raoul shouted excitedly. "Philippe – I'll call you back. I'm going to get Christine's stuff. Don't go anywhere, because I think I locked myself out of the house."

"I can't _go_ anywhere, that's the point," Philippe said irritably. "_You took the car_."

"You have another one, I thought?"

"No, that's being serviced. Remember our talk yesterday when I also told you that you can't use the car because I need it to go to work?"

"Just take the Tube."

"Ugh, with all those people? Not a chance."

"Talk to you later, Philippe."

"I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET-"

Raoul hung up and turned to Christine cheerfully. "I'll get your stuff then, love."

"Philippe seemed angry about me moving in," Christine said apprehensively.

"No, he's not," Raoul assured her. "He's mad about a lot of things, all of which are my fault. That's usually the case."

"You're sure it won't be any trouble?" Christine asked. "I – I can move back with Madame Giry and Meg – that's where I was going to go for summer anyways."

"You're never any trouble to me," Raoul assured her, kissing her forehead.

Christine smiled shyly. "Then – then can I ask one more thing of you?"

"Of course."

"I'll come with you. But – but just stay with me the entire time, okay? Hold onto me or something. I don't want to disappear without you being able to do anything about it."

"Oh, I'm not finished with Erik," Raoul said darkly. "But I won't ever let go of you." He resisted adding 'for the rest of my life'.

Raoul and Christine went into her dorm room to find Meg worriedly pacing around her bed. "_Christine_!" she shrieked, tackling her friend with a tight hug. "I thought you were dead – I was going to come find you but I wasn't sure _where_ – and you were gone the whole evening and Raoul was nearly arrested by the police – Christine, it's been such a night but you're _safe_."

Meg's eyes were filled with tears. Christine bit her lip as Meg asked the fateful question: "What happened?"

Christine looked to Raoul. "I can't say it again. I don't even want to hear you say it."

Raoul shared a worried glance with Meg. "I'll text it to you," he offered.

"You don't know my number," Meg said, frowning.

"I found it last night," he admitted. "I had Christine's phone."

"Ah. Okay, text it to me."

As Raoul started texting, Christine took Raoul's hand and said to Meg, "I'm moving to Raoul's. I can't stay here – I think you know why."

Meg nodded soberly. "He'll find you again."

"Wait – no," Raoul exclaimed. "Meg, you're not safe here either. Who knows what Erik is capable of? We – we know what he's done. What if he takes you as ransom, and tries to use you as bait for Christine or me? You're not safe here, either. You can come stay with me, too."

Meg raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "I'd like to see him try and get me," she said fiercely.

"Meg, he's right," Christine said quietly. "I'd feel better if you were safe, too."

"Well – I – what about school, Chris? What about classes?"

"We'll tell the school," Christine insisted. "Please, Meg."

Meg sighed. "It would make you safer," she said slowly.

Both Christine and Raoul nodded.

Meg bit her lip. "All right. I'm coming with you. Just – give me a moment to pack."

"We've got all night," Raoul laughed. "And I can help."

"Once you're done texting," Meg said, laughing a little. "Must be one hell of a story."

"You've no idea," Raoul said darkly.

As the girls packed, he finally hit the send button. Meg immediately stopped and started reading. Within a couple minutes, she gasped in horror and hugged Christine tightly. She glanced at Raoul briefly, and in that moment the two of them made an unspoken vow: they would protect Christine with their lives.

A couple hours later, the girls were packed and ready to go. Raoul pulled up the car and everyone (barely) managed to fit in – Meg said she would make another trip back in a few days. They drove in relative silence until Raoul pulled up in his driveway and both girls gasped.

"You live _here_?"

Raoul shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. He knew he was rich, and he knew that he was very privileged to have the lifestyle that he did. But there still was no hiding that his house had over 50 rooms and was decorated like an old Victorian mansion. "Yeah," he mumbled. "We'll – erm – be in the east wing…"

"The east wing!" Christine exclaimed. "I've never had a house big enough to even have parts of the house that we use and parts that we don't."

"It's really wasteful," Raoul said sadly, feeling extremely ashamed. "I wish we'd take in boarders but Philippe has said no repeatedly. I guess you guys are the first."

"_RAOUL_!"

Philippe came running out of the house, his wavy hair dishevelled, a housecoat thrown over his pyjamas. "Raoul, you weren't answering any of my calls and you _said_ you'd call me back!"

"I was driving," Raoul replied, his voice muffled as his brother hugged him tightly.

"I thought you were _dead_."

"A bit overdramatic."

"Okay, yes, but – ah, hello Christine, it's nice to – wait – who's this?"

Philippe turned to Meg in confusion.

"This is Meg," Raoul said. "She's staying with us, too."

"Fabulous," Philippe said in a flat voice. "Well, if you'd _told_ me that more people were coming then I could have prepared the rooms but as it is I have no room prepared for Mira-"

"Meg."

"Meg can take the room you prepared for Christine," Raoul offered. "Chris can take my room."

"And where will you sleep?" Philippe asked drily.

"On the couch or something," Raoul shrugged.

"You're a nightmare," Philippe responded.

"We can share a room," Christine piped up.

Philippe froze. Raoul gulped and grabbed Christine's hand. "Probably not a good idea to mention that," he whispered.

"Share a room?" Philippe repeated. "So, what, you can get yourself pregnant, claim it's his baby, and then force him to marry you? Look, I understand that this is rough for you and that Raoul is an old friend but people of Raoul's status have to worry about things. They have to maintain a reputation. You being in the same room as Raoul will ruin that reputation in one fell swoop and he will get kicked out of Oxford and he will never find a good job. No, you may certainly not _share a room_."

Christine looked ready to cry. "Now you've upset her!" Raoul exclaimed hotly. "I know it's me you're mad at – don't take it out on her." Raoul pulled Philippe aside roughly and said in a whisper, "She's probably been raped you dumb twat. Leave her alone."

"That's what happens to girls like that," Philippe muttered. "Raoul, I know how much you love Christine and it's great that you've found someone you love. But you've known her for about three days since you've been reunited. I hardly think that's enough time for you to make the kind of decisions about her that you are making."

"I can't change the way events happen," Raoul said. "But I love Christine and she's just been through hell and back and you are not going to make her upset any more than she already is."

Philippe sighed. "Look, I'm sorry," he said. "It's been a stressful day and I'm worried about you. You have to start thinking about your life, Raoul."

"I am," Raoul replied, turning his back on his brother and walking towards Christine with open arms.

"He hates me," Christine said thickly. "I knew it was too good to be true. And he's right, Raoul. People like me don't date people like you. People like me aren't allowed to marry people like you. It's all too good. You're too good for me."

"Don't you think that for one second," Raoul said fiercely. "Philippe is being a right fucker right now. And besides, the old ways that he holds so dearly are changing. Kate Middleton is a princess now, isn't she? And she's a commoner." He paused, then added in a lower voice, "And we'll share a room tonight whether it pleases Philippe or not."

"No, I wouldn't want to," she said hurriedly. "I don't want to anger him any more."

"He's mad at me, not you," Raoul repeated. "Anyways, let's get you inside and warmed up, all right?"

Christine nodded.

Meg did end up taking Christine's room, and Christine took Raoul's. And miraculously, Raoul did end up in his own room with Christine, his arms wrapped around her as he grabbed a club that he was now keeping by his bed at any sudden movements.


	14. Chapter 14

(A/N: Hallo everyone! This is a lot of fun to write and I hope everyone is having fun reading! Let me know how you're finding it and I'll be back soon with another instalment – the Persian approaches!)

Over the next month, Raoul lived at home and drove Christine and Meg to school every day. Raoul barely returned to his school, but luckily for him it was the Easter holidays and he only had two exams coming up. This freed up all of his time to spend with Christine. During this time, they heard nothing from Erik. Meg and Raoul came to the agreement that Erik had been unable to find them and had finally, perhaps, given up.

Philippe grew accustomed to Christine and Meg living in the Chagny home, and offered Christine a fatherly counsel. It was something that greatly helped Christine in an attempt to recover from her experience. His anger at Raoul seemed to subside as the days went on, and Philippe grew to like Christine and her sweet nature. He took the same approach with her that he had with Raoul when their parents had died; and he soon grew to be father to both his brother and Christine. Philippe was only strict about not letting Christine and Raoul sleep in the same bed – they each had bedrooms of their own. However, Philippe didn't have much control over what happened at night, and inevitably when Christine woke up from nightmares, Raoul was right there to comfort her and calm her into sleeping again.

Once school ended at the end of May, Christine seemed to lighten up considerably. Raoul figured he knew the reason why: she was completely free of Erik, because she was never going back to that boarding school or that town again, save for the summer ball. She was essentially free from Erik; after all, how could he find her in a city of over six million people?

Christine's college was throwing a party at the end of the year to celebrate the years the girls had spent there. Meg had moved back with her mother in Paris after school ended, but the girls still Skyped every day and excitedly talked about the summer ball. Christine made Meg buy a dress from Paris that she could wear to the dance, and Meg fretted about who she wanted to go with. Piangi, a boy who had dated Carly for a while, and Frederick's best friend Cameron, had asked her. Meg's offer from Piangi was quickly rejected when Christine noticed that Piangi's profile said he was still in a relationship with Carly. So Meg then fretted about going with Frederick's best friend – what if Frederick came? Would that be okay with Christine? What if Frederick caused a scene? Christine insisted that it would be fine, and told Meg, "You've been crushing on him for a year, so it's about time you acted on that." So Meg finally accepted.

Of course, Christine asked Raoul to the summer ball. In true romantic fashion, she arranged a picnic in Hyde Park and put the invitation on top of Raoul's sandwich. He was delighted – although slightly annoyed that he had gotten mayonnaise all over the invitation – and accepted the invitation. They then spent the day searching for a suit for Raoul, which was the easy part, and also finding a tie to match Christine's dress, which was the hard part. Raoul kept fussing and Christine finally told him that her dress was a plain salmon pink so that he wouldn't worry about finding a salmon pink tie with sparkles and flecks of purple. Both Christine and the shopkeeper were relieved when Raoul finally decided on a tie.

Before the summer ball, Christine and Raoul made a summer project for themselves: they would visit something new in London every single date day. It was proving hard, since Christine's favourite place in London was the West End and Raoul's favourite place was Fleet Street; but they managed, and they made sure to send all their snapchats to Meg. Meg, of course, would respond with all the food that she got to eat in Paris (complete with a countdown to the summer ball). In the competition of who was having more fun, the three finally called a draw.

The big day of the ball finally arrived; Meg came over to Raoul's so the girls could get ready together while Raoul attempted to make conversation with Cameron. Meg and Christine had a reunion catch-up, and Meg was very proud of all the croissants she'd sneaked across the border. Meanwhile, Raoul had to call in Philippe within a few minutes with Cameron – as it turned out, Cameron was nice but snooty and took an instant dislike to Raoul. Philippe managed to smooth things over just barely.

The group was very chatty, after Cameron warmed up to Raoul, and Meg and Christine looked stunning. Meg was wearing a forest green suit with a black bow tie to match Cameron's black suit (his tie was forest green). Christine was wearing a sleeveless salmon pink dress that faded to purple at the edges and was absolutely covered in sparkles. Raoul once again fretted about his tie, but Christine shouted, "IT'S DONE!" so he let it slide.

Philippe had hired a special photographer to have pictures taken of all four, so that took up a good hour while they were all told to stand in very weird positions while the photographer shouted "PERFECT" and took about seventy photos.

"It's really cute that Phil took this much effort," Christine said, rubbing her cheeks. "But I am really sore from all that smiling."

"He always goes overboard once he decides that something is worth doing," Raoul sighed. "He's especially been like this since Dad died. He feels like he has to make me happy all the time, and if he's not disciplining me or making me happy then he's nothing to me. At least you haven't heard what he's doing about the cats."

"What about the cats?" Christine demanded.

"Well," Raoul said, his voice getting higher with every word he spoke, "I kind of said I wanted a cat so Philippe is getting five."

"Five cats?" Christine exclaimed. "Well… one for each kid, I guess."

"One for each kid and one for you," Raoul corrected.

Christine fell silent and looked at the ground, suddenly very embarrassed; but she was smiling all the same.

As everyone got ready to leave, Philippe pulled Raoul and Meg aside. "Look," he said, "I know I haven't been helpful with Christine's situation. I've been pretty insensitive and I guess because you care about her, that should be enough for me. But I want you both to be aware, okay? This guy who stalked Christine is still out there, and probably still in town. The thing is, yes, he hurt Christine. But the people close to her are targets, too. If he realises that he can't win her over by talking to her directly, he might threaten the two of you."

Raoul gulped. "I've got a knife in my pocket," he said.

"I've taken up boxing," Meg added.

Philippe nodded. "Just… be careful, both of you. I don't want to hear about either of you in the paper tomorrow."

"Thanks," Raoul said quietly, his voice trembling.

Philippe hugged Raoul tightly. "Make sure the three of you come back in one piece," he whispered.

"I will," Raoul replied. But he wasn't so sure.

Raoul was nervous the entire limousine ride to the dance. Christine was less nervous than Raoul because she knew she was under Raoul's protection. Raoul, on the other hand, kept a hand on his knife at all times and went over all the different moves he'd learned in self-defence class. Meg, too, kept clenching her hands into fists as she flexed her muscles and tried to pretend like she was much stronger than she actually was. But Erik had killed. How could either of them face off with a murderer?

However, ultimately, the day was a day for celebration; and despite constantly being on edge, Raoul and Meg both seemed to forget about Erik when they saw Christine. Cameron, who was completely confused as to why Raoul kept clutching his ribs and why Meg kept balling her hands into fists, was just glad that the atmosphere had lightened. After an hour in the limousine, all four were getting along splendidly, and Raoul and Meg had relaxed considerably.

"Raoul," Christine said gently as they pulled up to the school, "you don't have to worry about me. Let's just have a good time, okay?"

Raoul managed a smile. "All right," he agreed. "I'm still going to keep my guard up, though."

"What, like you did at that haunted tour of London?" Christine asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Okay, firstly, that cat came out of _nowhere_," Raoul exclaimed, getting out of the limousine quickly.

"It was a kitten," Meg corrected, hopping out after him.

"Its eyes were glowing!" Raoul said defensively. "And it was right after we were standing at the spot where one of Jack the Ripper's victims was found!"

"Jack the Ripper killed prostitutes, though," Meg pointed out. "You shouldn't have to be too frightened."

Raoul raised his eyebrows. "You'd be surprised."

Christine just laughed as the four of them walked into the school cafeteria, where the dance party had already started. Disco lights flashed everywhere as horrible dance pop played. "See, we'll be fine," she said, grinning.

"Do you guys have any plans for summer?" Cameron asked. "'Cause – Meg – you live in Paris, right? I'm making a trip to Paris in a couple weeks."

"Oh, are you?" Meg asked excitedly, looking to Christine. "Well, I mean, I'll be in Paris, but I don't know about Christine and Raoul."

"We might be," Christine said hopefully, "and maybe visit Father's grave."

"That is, if Philippe will pay for it," Raoul chuckled. "We're loaded but Philippe has gotten slightly irritated that I'm actually using money this summer. Apparently I'm a 'poor university student'. I'm not sure that getting over a hundred million from my father in his will is 'poor', though."

"Philippe's point is just that you can't spend all your money right now," Christine pointed out. "You have to save some for later. Don't spend it all on me, however much you want to."

"There is no way I am going to use up a hundred million pounds in one summer," Raoul said. "If I do, I am not even a functional human being."

"That's already debatable," Meg laughed.

"Could I please have everyone's attention!" the headmistress said, her voice booming. Once everyone had quieted down and the music had been paused, the headmistress dimmed the lights and held up a candle. "I will be passing the candles around momentarily. We will have a five-minute silence in memory of Joseph Buquet."

The room seemed to all quiet in soberness, except for Christine, who turned to Raoul and Meg with alarm. "What did she say?" she asked in a barely audible whisper.

"Moment of silence to the memory of Joe Buquet," Meg mouthed.

This just seemed to make Christine more alarmed. "He's – he's dead?" she stammered.

"Shh," Raoul warned, nudging her. "Yes, he is, didn't you see any of the papers after the whole incident?"

"No," Christine whispered. "I was all over the papers so I didn't want to look – and I moved in with you anyways, so I got London news. I didn't know Joe was dead. How'd he die?"

"A lot of people still think it was murder," Meg breathed. "He was found dead by strangulation the moment you disappeared."

Christine grabbed Raoul's hand. "You didn't tell me," she whispered, an almost accusatory tone in her voice.

"You were already so upset," Raoul explained. "And you told me you didn't want to talk about that day, so I didn't ever bring it up."

"This is important!" Christine exclaimed, forgetting to keep her voice down. Everyone turned to glare at her, but Christine paid them no heed. "This means that Erik murdered Joseph Buquet right before he kidnapped me!"

"Yes," Raoul said. "Chris, we can talk about this later, okay? This is a _vigil_."

At that moment, there was loud laughter that could be heard, bouncing off the walls of the cafeteria.

"Silence, please!" the headmistress called.

The laughter grew louder.

"It's him," Christine gasped, clutching Raoul's arm. "It's him, I know it!"

Meg balled her hands into fists and stood in a fighting stance. Raoul put his hand inside his pocket; he didn't want to pull out the knife yet; he wanted to see Erik first.

"Can we all please stay silent!" the headmistress exclaimed. "This is meant to be a memorial to Mr. Joseph Buquet!"

"_And why should I care?_"

It was Erik's voice. Christine gulped. She hadn't heard that voice since the night she had been kidnapped. She had never wanted to hear the voice again. But just hearing it made her remember the horror of that night and how defenceless she was against him.

"_Oh, Christine Daae…_" Erik called in a singsong voice. "_I know you've come back for me, Christine… Come to me…_"

All the heads slowly turned to Christine.

Raoul immediately stood in front of Christine and shielded her. "We are holding a vigil for a young man who was murdered on these premises!" Raoul shouted, glaring at the ceiling. He pulled out his knife and rather stupidly brandished it in front of him, daring Erik to come close. "This has nothing to do with Christine Daae."

Most of the girls in the crowd looked ashamed and turned back to their candles, staying silent for Joseph Buquet. Everyone in the hall tried to ignore the laughter that was steadily growing louder.

"It's all right, love," Raoul whispered, turning around and reaching out for Christine.

He reached out into empty space.


	15. Chapter 15

(A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry it has been forever since the last update – I promise I haven't forgotten you! I always write a few chapters in advance, but I hit a snare on a chapter so I wasn't sure if I should keep releasing chapters knowing that at some point there would be a long delay in getting a chapter out to you guys because I wouldn't know what to write from there! I finally decided you've waited long enough – so here is the next instalment in our saga! I hope everyone enjoys it and that I didn't lose too much interest by making you wait for like three weeks haha. Let me know how you enjoyed it and I will try to be out with a new chapter very soon! Cheers!)

"I saw her run," Meg said, taking Raoul's hand and pulling him out of the cafeteria. "I don't know where she went but we have to find her quickly!"

"But why would she leave?" Raoul exclaimed, aghast. "She's been too scared to leave my side every time we come back! Why would she leave now?"

"She might know more than we do," Meg said darkly. "Look, this school isn't that big. I'm going to search the first four floors, and you can search the top two floors. Please don't get lost. Call me if you find her."

Raoul nodded and dashed away to the fifth floor, but before he could get very far, Meg shouted. "Raoul!"

He spun around.

But Meg wasn't there. In her place was a very tall, muscular man with a turban on his head. "Hand at the level of your eyes," he said.

"Who are you?" Raoul asked, very unnerved.

"The Persian – a friend," he replied, his bushy moustache twitching slightly. "Hand at the level of your eyes, Raoul Vicomte de Chagny! Your life may depend on it!"

Raoul didn't think. He just put his hand up above his face and kept his other hand on his coat pocket, where the knife still rested, as he ran to the fifth floor. He made quick work of it, mainly after discovering that all the classroom doors were locked. The sixth floor went about the same, except for one classroom that was unlocked; but turns out it had been locked because someone was giving parents a tour of the school. Raoul was about to give up when he saw a door that was slightly ajar that said 'DO NOT ENTER'.

Well, desperate times called for desperate circumstances, so he went through the door and up a flight of stairs. Mysteriously, he could feel wind the higher he climbed the stairs. He was hit by the sun's rays as he emerged from the stairs to find himself on the roof. And there, at the roof's edge, was Christine.

"Christine!" Raoul shouted. "Christine, get away from the edge! You'll fall off!"

"_Christine_…"

"I'm never going to escape him!" Christine sobbed.

Raoul spun around, attempting to find out where the voice had come from, but he realised that it had simply been an echo – Erik was still searching in the cafeteria for Christine, and they were standing right above it.

"Christine, get away from the edge!" Raoul shouted as he ran towards her.

"I have to end it," she cried. "I can't live in happiness so I might as well die now and know that he won't be there anymore haunting me-"

She started to back away from the roof. Raoul only sighed in relief for a moment before he realised that she was going to get a running start.

"Christine, _no_!" he shrieked, standing in front of her.

"Get out of the way!" she said, not looking at him but looking past him. Her eyes seemed very cloudy, as if she wasn't fully herself.

"Christine, there are other ways out!" Raoul shouted desperately. "We can move anywhere in the world if you want but you will be able to get away! You don't have to end your life because he doesn't want you to live it!"

Christine started to run towards the edge of the roof.

Raoul managed to catch her mid-run, but she was determined and he had to fight her all the way to the edge before he managed to throw her onto the ground. She nearly rolled backwards but bounced back up, looking very confused. "Christine," he panted. "You don't – have – to do – this."

She looked at Raoul, almost startled that he had stopped her from committing suicide. "Raoul," she said slowly. Then her expression brightened and she threw her arms around him. "Raoul," she repeated.

"That's me," Raoul sighed, hugging her as he carefully steered them far away from the edge of the roof.

"You – where am I?" she said, looking around at the roof in confusion. "I was with you in the ballroom…"

"You just tried jumping off the roof," Raoul said cautiously. "You – you don't remember?"

Christine frowned. "Why on Earth would I do that?" she asked. "I just remember… a hand. Someone just touched the back of my neck. And now I'm here."

Raoul frowned. This wasn't something that usually happened to Christine. She was almost acting as if she'd been possessed, like she hadn't actually had control over her own actions. Raoul wasn't sure how, but he had a dark suspicion that Erik was behind this. The hands brushing her neck – was that a way to hypnotise her? And did Erik mean for Christine to throw herself off a roof? Or did he want to hypnotise her into coming back into his company? And what then? What if he had meant for her to jump off the roof? So what did he hope would happen to Christine – did he want her to die, or did he want her to be injured enough to seek his care? Or did he plan that they would both die together? Raoul shook his head and looked carefully at his girlfriend.

"But you stopped me," Christine said in awe, plopping to the ground and crossing her legs. "You saved my life."

"My girlfriend isn't going to jump off a roof on my watch," Raoul replied, squinting at Christine (his vision was being blocked by the sun but he really couldn't see any way around it as they were on the roof).

She shook her head. "I don't know what just happened; I really don't. I don't remember what happened and I'm – I'm so confused and so _tired_. I just – I want to live a normal life, you know? I didn't ask for this to happen. I never wanted any of this to happen. I just wanted to live here and go to school and marry you and become an engineer. That's all I ever wanted. And now I don't get to have any of that – not with Erik following me everywhere."

"Life doesn't always go the way you want it to," Raoul sighed, sitting down beside Christine and putting an arm around her. "He can't follow you forever, Christine. And you'll head to university next year and he'll be just a bad memory pretty soon."

"I hope," Christine sighed, leaning her head on Raoul's shoulder. "He seemed ready to kill me this time, though. And – and I had thought he was innocent, you know, a bit like a child. I pitied him slightly, even after what happened, because I thought maybe if the world had just been kinder to him, he'd've been a different person. But knowing that he hasn't tried, and that he won't try to be kind… He just became a lot scarier, knowing that he's killed someone. You know?"

"Yeah," Raoul murmured. "But he's not going to hurt you anymore, Christine. I'm not going to desert you."

"I know you won't," Christine said contentedly.

"Christine Daae," a voice called. But it was not Erik's voice.

"The Persian," Raoul said, turning around to face the man again. "Who are you? How did you think keeping my hand at the level of my eyes would help?"

"It prevents him from strangling you," the Persian replied.

"Bhuvan!" Christine exclaimed.

"I believe like you do, Christine," Bhuvan said, while Raoul watched on in slight confusion. "I believe Erik has a kind soul. But he promised me when he came here, when I brought him here, that he would not kill any more. He has broken that promise."

Bhuvan the Persian sighed, and then looked away. "I must go," he said. "But do not worry, Christine Daae. Your life is safe in the hands of Raoul de Chagny." And he hurried away, back into the building.

Raoul's questions died in his throat as his phone started buzzing, and with that he suddenly remembered that poor Meg was still frantically searching for Christine. Sure enough, Meg was calling him.

"Hey," he said quietly. "I've got her. She's here."

"Where is here?" Meg screeched. Raoul had to hold the phone away from his ear while Meg shouted at him. There seemed to be, he reflected, a reoccurring theme of people shouting at him over the phone. "I've been trying to call you for _five minutes_ and you haven't answered! Bhuvan told me he'd tell you before you left but I didn't see him again and I didn't know whether you listened to him! For all I knew, you and Christine were both dead and Erik had killed both of you! Where the hell are you? Why didn't you call me? I've been searching down here for ages and I don't even know where you _are_ and the dance is still going on!"

"We're on the roof," Raoul replied, putting the phone back to his ear.

"What? Why are you on the roof? Was Christine on the roof?"

"Er – yeah, she was."

"Okay. Why in the name of all that is good was she _on the roof_?"

"Er – um –"

Christine nodded at him. "You can tell her."

"She, uh, tried to jump off the roof."

The other end crackled. It sounded as if Meg had put her palm on the receiver. "Meg? Are you still there?"

"Yeah." She sounded slightly choked up. "I'm coming." She abruptly hung up.

"Not exactly how I wanted my last big event with all my school friends to go," Christine sighed glumly, looking down at her palms. She chuckled. "Then again, nothing has been going exactly how I wanted."

Raoul couldn't think of anything to say. It had been four of the weirdest months of his life as well; but Christine was there, so he really didn't care what happened as long as she was safe and they stayed together. But this had been going on for two years of Christine's life. Raoul couldn't erase the memories, and he certainly couldn't know exactly what Christine had been through. As the pair waited for Meg, Raoul realised that the best thing for him to do was be there to support Christine in whatever way possible.

Meg burst through and ran to Christine. "Are you okay?" she asked frantically.

"I am now," Christine replied softly. "You guys are the best friends in the world, you know that right?"

"Might be a better friend if I'd known you were going to jump off the _flipping roof_," Meg said. "Seriously, Christine, are you okay? Because Erik won't be around forever. You told me he was at least fifty, and he lives in a dark house, so he probably will die of a heart attack in a few years."

"Ha, ha," Christine said sarcastically. "People like Erik live forever."

"But he won't be bothering you anymore," Raoul said firmly. "Consider me your permanent, hot bodyguard."

Christine laughed.

"And consider me the angry, short friend who will actually protect you while the hot bodyguard distracts everyone else by taking off his shirt," Meg added. Raoul just winked.

"It doesn't matter how long Erik will be around," Raoul said, smiling at Christine. "We'll be around longer."

Meg put her hands on top of Christine's. "And that's a promise."

A dark shadow behind them spoke her name, his voice drenched with sadness, loathing, and anger. Only he heard his anguished screams, and like a cockroach, he scurried into the shadows, which were his only retreat from the world.


	16. Chapter 16

(A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you're all enjoying your summer and for those of you who celebrated the Fourth of July that you had a great fourth! I'm going to try and get on a regular schedule for uploading – I'm going to shoot for every Monday putting up a new chapter. And I knowww it's not a Monday but I figured you guys had waited long enough for this haha. Let me know how you liked it – this is something that I had in my mind for a while, what this conversation would've been like, so this is what I have! Anyways, read on and I'll see you guys next Monday – and if you don't see me, send me some messages reminding me ;p)

Dragging two large suitcases behind him (one of his things and one of Christine's), Raoul staggered into his house. He had just left Christine with Mama Valerius for two weeks; and Christine had sent home more of her stuff to prepare for moving into university. The house was silent as Raoul shut the door; he knew Philippe wouldn't be home for another couple hours because Philippe was on a _date_. Imagine! But Philippe hadn't answered any of Raoul's questions about Philippe's date, so Raoul had to just wait until his brother got home later.

As Raoul hauled one of his suitcases upstairs, he was greeted by several kittens and cats that all came down the stairs to greet him. "Oh, man," Raoul sighed, petting one of the kittens, who was black with little white paws. "Philippe was serious about five cats."

The cat he happened to pet first had a collar on it that said, "I'm for Christine! I'm a boy – name me please!" He looked at the cat's eyes a little bit closer and noticed that the cat was blind.

Raoul grinned. Christine had really become part of the family – and Philippe knew Christine almost as well as a father should. She would want the blind cat more than any – she always picked the underdog. Raoul picked up another kitten, one that was brown and black spotted. Its collar said, "I'm for Raoul! I'm a girl – name me please!"

"Well, well, well," Raoul said, looking at his kitten. "What do you want to be called, huh? How about Caroline? No, that doesn't quite suit you… Maybe I'll call you Delia. No, wait, that sounds strange. How about – how about Rachel? Well, I think something with an 'R', anyways. Rissa? No – oh wait, I've got it! Rosie! We'll call you Rosie. What do you think about that?"

The cat nuzzled him.

"I'll take that as a yes." Raoul gently held his kitten Rosie in one arm while he picked up his suitcase with his free hand and headed to his room. "Have you seen my room, Rosie? It's quite nice, and I'm sure you'll be comfortable there. But if you don't want to spend time there, that's fine, I understand. You've got a whole house to explore."

He walked into his room.

"Well, the kitten is a surprise."

Raoul dropped the suitcase in horror, although thankfully he didn't drop Rosie. "Erik," he said, his heart skipping a beat. He felt in his jacket for his knife, but he didn't have it. "What do you want? How did you get in my house?"

"Through the window," Erik said mildly, sitting in Raoul's largest armchair (which Raoul himself never used because he thought it made him feel small). "The British always leave their windows open during the summer, but your door was closed. I thought that was odd. But you have a kitten, so now I see why."

"What do you want?" Raoul asked roughly, holding Rosie protectively. As an afterthought, he added, "You can't have my cat."

Erik laughed. "I don't want your cat. I wanted to talk to you, Raoul de Chagny. Just talk."

"Just talk?" Raoul repeated apprehensively.

"You know," Erik said musingly, "what I really don't like about you, Raoul?"

Raoul didn't really care to know, and after all, he didn't really care about the opinion of a crazy stalker and murderer. "What?" he asked in a bored voice.

"You're so _nice_," Erik sighed. "You're nice, thoughtful, caring, considerate, fiercely loyal, and protective. You are a boy who has everything to be arrogant about, and yet you lack arrogance for anything. You are talented in many ways, yet you use those talents only for the benefit of others. You are, perhaps, one of the least self-centred person I've ever been acquainted with in my life. In short, you are likeable."

For a moment, Raoul wasn't sure if this was a trap. But Erik, despite his height and his rather ghastly face, seemed to be genuine. He really seemed to want to chat with Raoul. In this moment, he seemed completely sane, unlike the person that Raoul had gotten to know over the past few months. He seemed so much like a person that Raoul almost had to believe him.

"Then why do you hate me?" Raoul asked. "You just listed a bunch of positive traits about me. That doesn't seem like a good place to start if you're going to talk about what you don't like about me."

"I don't like you because you are the one who deserves her, Raoul," Erik said sadly. "Christine, I mean. You deserve her, and I should not be near her with a thirty-foot pole. You are good-looking; I am not. You are morally upright; I am not. You are kind, generous, and selfless; I am not. You are everything that I cannot be."

"You can, though," Raoul said hopefully, seeing in this a moment to help Erik; for he saw now what Christine and Bhuvan had seen: Erik the man, not the stalker, the murderer, the creep from the shadows. Raoul saw Erik the man, who had the potential to turn his life around even though it seemed all but hopeless. "If – if you just forgot about Christine and let us help you instead of trying to stick yourself between us… we could help you. You can be a better person if you want to be."

"Oh, I could," Erik said, although Raoul could tell that he didn't believe him completely. "But I cannot quite let Christine go, no matter how hard I try."

"She doesn't love you, you know," Raoul said, feeling a strange pity for the broken man before him. "I'm not sure how but I think she does care about you – but it is not in the way that you want."

"Oh, I know," Erik said pleasantly. "It just seems like I cannot take no for an answer."

"No means no," Raoul replied. "You should take it as such and move on."

"But Christine is not one I can move on from," Erik insisted. "I love her."

"I love her too," Raoul pressed. "Look, if I found out that she fancied somebody else and broke up with me, of course I'd be upset. I'd be heartbroken. I might not get over it for a few years. But I would let her be with whoever made her happier, even if it hurt me. That's what love is. It means putting someone else's needs before your own even if it hurts you."

"Is it?" Erik mused. "I'm not quite sure I know what love is."

"I – I mean, there are different types," Raoul stammered. "That's how I explain it. I can't really, though. It's hard."

Erik nodded. And then, he smiled. "Raoul, I'm going to tell you how I first met Christine. I'm sure you remember the first time you met her as well, but I don't really want to hear your side. I'm afraid it will make me like you."

Raoul laughed. "All right," he said. "I'm listening."

"I came to that little town with Bhuvan shortly after my time as the prince's tutor ended. I was always a fan of the arts, and they don't have a lot of western music where I lived with the prince. I saw that Christine's school was putting on a musical, which was open to the public. It was the fourth night and the understudy would be performing instead of the regular, which I found exciting – understudies are always better than the originals, you know. So I went with Bhuvan and we sat there, and I listened to an understudy with the voice of an angel. She had too much vibrato and she was too nervous, so her acting was sub-par; but I could tell that she had room for improvement. Bhuvan says that I went into a trance. Perhaps I did. I could not think of how to get in contact with this angel, so I started following her. I saw that there was another with her, a boy, and I thought that it wouldn't do. She, it seemed, would be the one to love me for me. So I had to get rid of the boy first. I did it very clumsily and threatened him away; but it just scared her away from me, too. And then you came, Raoul de Chagny, and she appeared to know you. After all the time I had spent trying to get her attention, I thought that I had completely failed because I saw you and knew that she would never love me. But I tried, oh how I tried! And it just went further south. And so here we are, Raoul. You have won and I have lost."

Raoul frowned. "But you're not going to stop trying, are you?" he asked, his heart starting to pound again.

Erik paused for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, I'm not," he agreed. "I will for a little while, perhaps. Christine deserves a break from me. But in the end, I suppose I will not stop trying to win her over."

Raoul felt a rush of anger rising up from his chest. "Then why have you come?" he asked coldly. "What was the point of you coming here?"

"I suppose," Erik said slowly, "I wanted you to know."

"Know what? What have you told me other than that you like me and that you are still going to pursue Christine against her own wishes?"

"That I am doing my best," Erik said, after a moment of silence. "I was not raised well, Raoul de Chagny, as you can probably tell. I have travelled throughout several countries and I have never had a real friend or a real home, except my underground hell. But there is a part of me that does want to be better. It is the part of me that both you and Christine have appealed to. And I am trying to bring that Erik back."

Raoul sighed. Erik was such a conflicting person; he was hard to hate blindly, but he was also hard to like. "Then let us help you," Raoul attempted again.

"Ah, no," Erik said, shaking his head. "I believe I am past the point of helping."

"No one is past that point," Raoul insisted.

Erik got up from the armchair and put a leg out the window. "I am," he said. "But I should leave. Your brother is coming home." As he climbed out, he turned around and looked at Raoul curiously. "I do have one question for you, Raoul de Chagny," he said. "Am I truly ugly?"

Raoul tried to answer honestly. "Your face is a bit ghastly, and a bit of a shock when you first see it," he replied. "But I think it's quite easy to get used to."

Erik nodded, a little smile on his face as he left Raoul's room, leaving Raoul feeling very conflicted.


	17. Chapter 17

(A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed the last chapter! It was something that I'd had in my head for a while, and what Erik and Raoul would say to each other. I realised that I was making more of a villain out of Erik than he was in the original Leroux version – Erik is still a villain but also an anti-hero, at least from the way I see it. Don't worry, this is still going to stay R/C – I will defend this ship until I die! Ahaha anyways, the next chapter is here and I hope you guys like it! See all of you next week! –Hannah)

Two weeks later, when Christine returned, Raoul momentarily forgot about his strange visit from Erik. Christine excitedly named her little blind cat Emmett while Raoul debated on how to tell Christine about the visit. He was tempted not to tell her – it would mean that she was less scared, and perhaps wouldn't continue to feel sympathetic towards him. In a way, not telling Christine would keep her safer.

But Raoul couldn't keep a secret from Christine for very long. She figured out that he wasn't telling her something long before Raoul had figured out how to tell her. Christine just brought it up one hot summer day when she and Raoul were hiding inside by the fans and playing with the cats. "You seem a bit distant since I got back," she said casually. "And you took the really comfy armchair from your room."

"Didn't want it there anymore," Raoul replied shortly.

"But you kept it there because I used it to read in," Christine pointed out.

Raoul shrugged. "I just… I don't want it there anymore."

Christine frowned; she definitely knew Raoul wasn't telling her something. Raoul looked too guilty to just have taken a sudden dislike to the armchair.

"If you don't want to tell me, then fine," she said, getting Emmett his mouse to play with. "I just figured we'd need to be honest if we were going to make this relationship work."

"Erik came, all right?" Raoul screeched, scaring Rosie and Emmett so much that they both darted out of the room.

"I – sorry – _what_?" Christine gasped.

Raoul gulped. "Erik came," he repeated. "He sneaked in through my window and was sitting in that damned armchair. And I spoke to him and we had a conversation – a real, lucid, sane conversation. He told me how he came to know you and how much he hated my good qualities."

"And – and he didn't – he didn't ask about me?" Christine asked.

Raoul glared at her. "He's a stalker," Raoul insisted. "He wouldn't ask about you because he already knows. And besides, he told me that I was the one who deserved you."

"Deserved me?" Christine exclaimed, raising her voice. "I'm sorry – do I get any say in this? I _chose_ you because you've always been the one that I loved. I don't think I'd choose someone else if they thought they deserved me. I'm not an object for sale that can just be tossed around to the highest bidder!"

Raoul put his face in his hands. "I know," he sighed. "Please don't be mad, Christine. I'm only telling you what Erik said."

"Well, did he say when he was going to stop following me?" Christine demanded, still fuming.

Christine glared at Raoul while Raoul avoided her gaze. He was silent for a very long time. "Did you hear me?" Christine prompted.

"Yeah," Raoul murmured.

"Then are you going to answer?"

"He – he said he's given up," Raoul finally stammered. "He's given up trying to win you over."

"But you don't believe him," Christine finished, seeing the worried look on her boyfriend's face.

"No, I don't," he sighed. "I think… maybe he's hoping he'll be able to come back someday. Maybe he's hoping I'll give up." He smiled to himself and then looked up at Christine. "But I won't."

"I won't, either," Christine promised.

With that, the two put Erik behind them and thus the rest of the summer passed much easier. Raoul decided that they would continue to do new things each day in London, which led to the pair finding some very unique places. Christine found a new favourite spot in London: a little park near the Embankment station. It was very small but it was secluded, and Christine felt very peaceful sitting there with Raoul in the grass.

So Christine and Raoul had a very good, eventful summer; but it was not eventful in the bad way. They had many adventures throughout London, some good, some bad; but since they were together, they could always spin even the worst adventures into a positive thing. They saw just about every show on the West End (a feat not easily accomplished – it took a lot of waiting in line and wincing at ticket prices to see all the shows Christine wanted to see); and they also got lost in East London, where Raoul nearly got mugged (apparently something that happened to Raoul quite frequently, so by this point he was used to it and just shouted at the man until he left the pair alone).

Soon, it was time for Christine and Raoul to go to university; Raoul had a flat with a few of his friends, and Christine was going to be in the dorms starting her first year. She was very nervous about meeting her flatmates, so Raoul came with her the day she had to move in. Unbeknownst to Christine, Meg had specifically requested that she be put in a flat with her friend; so when Christine walked in and moved all of her stuff into her room and into the kitchen, she ran into Meg.

"I didn't know – are you in my flat?" Christine exclaimed.

"Surprise," Raoul and Meg both said.

"I requested it," Meg added. "I hope you don't mind."

"Mind!" Christine exclaimed. "Of course I don't!"

And their other flatmates turned out to be wonderful. Christine had three other flatmates: James, Charlie, and Amelia. James had come from northern Ireland, so his accent was very cute and everyone wanted to hear him speak for a while before they let him go. They were all wonderful and, after a hard nudge from Meg, they never spoke about the events of Christine's past year with Joseph Buquet and Erik. They had all heard, but they simply did not speak of it; and with help from Meg and her other flatmates, Christine managed to recover from her ordeals of the previous two years.

Meanwhile, Christine started her program in electrical engineering and had, contrary to everyone's opinion, a wonderful time. There were mostly boys in her course, so she didn't really need to speak to any of them first – they all made a beeline for her. Of course, she got asked out about three times, but she declined all the requests with good grace; she knew that these boys had probably never spoken to a girl before, and plus her heart belonged to one Vicomte de Chagny.

Christine, Meg, and James became inseparable during their year together at university. James was a very meticulous, tidy person who managed to procrastinate until the very last moment to turn in a paper. Meg was, on the polar opposite end, the annoying friend who had things done weeks in advance. As an engineer, Christine didn't have many papers to do besides one large research paper near the end of the year, so she got to laugh at her friends all year long until exam time, when Meg and James got to laugh at her. Meg was studying English, while James was studying philosophy, so both of them bonded over how much nonsense they put into their essays. Whenever Christine heard Meg and James talk about their studies, she thanked her stars that her papa didn't push her to go into music – she loved engineering too much to do anything else.

Christine's first year at university ended well, and she nearly cried upon saying goodbye to James, Charlie, and Amelia. Raoul was there to help make it better, and she finally was consoled when Philippe told her that he had a surprise for her in about a month. This got Christine's mind off the end of her first year and she pestered Philippe about the surprise, but for once, Philippe was very tight-lipped and refused to say anything about it.

That was, until one day when Philippe came into the study, where Christine and Raoul were reading, and announced, "You two are going to Paris for your anniversary."

"That was supposed to be a surprise!" Raoul exclaimed.

"We're going to _Paris_?" Christine exclaimed happily, turning to Raoul.

"Well, not just Paris," Raoul admitted. "We're going to Disneyland Paris."

Christine shrieked. "I've never been to Disneyland Paris!"

With an amused look on his face, Philippe said, "I know. That's why we got you tickets. You've got a lovely hotel room right in the park – with a princess theme, of course, Raoul insisted – and you'll be spending five days there. I know it's not much, with Disneyland, but I figured it'd be a nice treat."

"It was my idea," Raoul said in a resentful tone.

"Yes, it was Raoul's idea," Philippe agreed, grinning. "But I am the one who paid for it."

"We're – going – to – _Disneyland_!" Christine shrieked again.

"You leave in one week," Philippe informed her. "So you two have time to pack before you spring any other surprise on her." He winked at Raoul.

Christine raised an eyebrow at Raoul as Philippe hurriedly left the room before Raoul could get irritated with him. "What other surprises?" she asked suspiciously. "What could be more of a surprise than Disneyland?"

Raoul shrugged. "It's a surprise, Christine," he said enigmatically. "That's the whole point. You aren't supposed to know about it."

"Pretty pretty please?" Christine said, widening her eyes.

"No," Raoul said firmly, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Christine. She _knew_ that puppy dog eyes always worked on him.

However, Christine didn't have to wait too long to find out the next surprise. She and Raoul took the Eurostar to Paris and arrived in Disneyland a day before their one-year anniversary, and Christine nearly forgot about the surprise when she and Raoul ran around Disneyland like two five year olds.

Raoul planned a special dinner in the French restaurant for their one-year anniversary. They spent the entire day going around rides (Raoul got so frightened in the Haunted Mansion that they had to get ice cream to recuperate), and they were absolutely tuckered out but still managed to get themselves together and go to their fancy dinner.

The Disney characters were all dancing around the tables, shaking hands and saying hello to everyone they passed. "They're coming to our table next," Christine whispered. "Get out the camera, Raoul, quickly!"

Raoul fidgeted. "I'm getting it," he said nervously.

"Are you okay?" Christine asked. "You're acting a bit weird."

"Just still a bit freaked by the Haunted Mansion," Raoul said. "That ghost came out of nowhere."

"That's what you said about a cat," Christine pointed out, giggling.

"Well, it's true!" Raoul exclaimed.

Mickey and Minnie Mouse came dancing over to Christine's and Raoul's table; once they got there, Mickey insisted that Christine get up and dance with him, spinning her far away from her table and all around the room. Mickey and Minnie surrounded Christine once she danced back to her table, and they gave her a giant hug. Christine couldn't stop laughing and doubled over, wheezing and completely out of breath and slightly dizzy. When she got up again, Minnie and Mickey stepped aside and put their hands out to present Raoul, who was on one knee and holding a little box in his hand.

"_Ohmygosh_," Christine gasped, letting all her breath out. "Is this the – the – _surprise_?"

"Christine Daae, I would have proposed to you a year ago but we did the smart thing by waiting," Raoul said, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?"

Christine couldn't exactly get out her words; her vision blurred and she wiped her eyes, unaware that she had started crying. A million thoughts raced through her head: they were too young, they were too unprepared, they hadn't even graduated from university, and they were _so in love_. "Raoul de Chagny," Christine said, her throat slightly constricted as she tried to stand taller, "I love you. And I meant what I said a year ago. But it's not stupid at all – I think it's the best decision I can make."

Raoul started grinning.

Mickey and Minnie leaned in. A waiter who was looking on grinned and said, "I thought it was a yes or no question."

"Well, I know her answer now," Raoul said, starting to cry.

"It's a yes, by the way," Christine said, running to him and hugging him tightly.

The entire restaurant cheered.


	18. Chapter 18

(A/N: Okay, so I know this isn't technically Monday anymore… but here me out, right? I actually have been through one hell of a week where I lost literally all my writing, had to get a new hard drive, and then discovered that I hadn't backed up enough of my writing so that when I restored everything, I actually lost all the plans for this story – along with all the original stuff I've been doing. It's been super rough but I've pretty much gotten this story back on track, or at least close to the track I intended for it. That's why this bit is late, though – I lost all my writing so I had to start this completely from scratch. Oh, well, I think it still turned out well and overall I'm just happy that I can finally start to get all my writing back by, of course, writing more haha. Hope you guys are all having a better week than me and I shall see you next Monday with another update!)

THREE YEARS LATER

"Hurry, Raoul, we're going to be late!" Christine called, putting one final bobby pin in her hair, which was tied back in an elegant bun after four hours of coaxing, prodding, gelling, and screaming. She smoothed down her dress, which had a purple, sparkly bodice that blended into a pale pink at the edge of her skirt. Her skirt was really poufy, and she had fondly called it the "star princess" dress. Her boots were silver and laced all the way up to her knee, with just the slightest heel so she wouldn't trip but just so she felt graceful and elegant.

She turned around from the mirror in front of which she'd spent the last five hours getting ready for her university's summer ball. Raoul, Meg, Madame Giry, and Philippe had all been in at various points but only Madame Giry had managed to stay and help Christine without her screaming. However, Christine was calm now and had completely erased the tear marks on her face with makeup. She stepped outside the bathroom and looked in the hallway of the apartment that she now lived in with Raoul. "Raoul, did you hear me?"

Raoul came out from their bedroom in suit pants and an undershirt. "One moment, Chris," he said. "Just need to put on my shirt."

"I can see that," Christine replied, the corners of her mouth twitching. "I have been in here for _hours_, Raoul de Chagny," she said as he disappeared into their bedroom, "and you get ready _fifteen minutes_ before the time allotted and I am the one who has to wait! Hmph!"

"You sound like Philippe," Raoul commented from inside the bedroom.

"Well, it's true!" Christine exclaimed. "I spend all this time getting ready and you don't even move a muscle-"

"Ta-da!" Raoul said, reappearing with what could be best described as an admiral's coat and a bouquet of flowers. "For you, my lovely wife, I bequeath unto you these flowers as a token of our everlasting love and my undying devotion to you."

Christine couldn't help but grin as her irritation evaporated. "Lord Raoul de Chagny, you are the most wonderful person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting," she said, accepting the flowers with a curtsey.

"As are you, _Lady_ Christine Daae," Raoul replied, grinning. "Shall we?" he asked, holding out his arm.

Christine took it with another curtsey. "Let us go to the summer ball, then, my lord," she said in a dignified voice.

"_Pictures first_!" Philippe thundered, appearing around the corner like a force of nature with three photographers. "I want all their best angles and make sure you get photos of the three of them. Then, I want solo pictures of all of them in three different poses. And I also want several photos of just Raoul and Christine, as we need cards to send out for their one-year wedding anniversary. Oh, and the summer ball starts in thirty minutes so you have twenty minutes."

If the photographers looked stressed, it was nothing compared to the looks on Christine's and Raoul's faces. Meg was relatively unfazed but still looked intimidated by the fancy photographers. Her mother, Madame Giry, was standing in a corner looking warily impressed by Philippe's intensity. She knew better than to talk to Philippe, though, and so she stood out of the way while the photographers moved the three around into such unnatural positions that they all wondered whether it would even look good on camera or not.

Philippe, however, looked very pleased when the photo session was done. He even wiped a little tear from his eye, which he insisted was simply because of allergies, as he waved the three goodbye, a three-year-old cat in each arm. "They're going off to the summer ball," he said in a very high-pitched voice to Rosie, Raoul's cat. "Don't they look lovely?" He turned to Sam, Christine's blind cat, and said, "Christine is wearing a very pretty dress but you won't hear her voice for a full twelve hours – if they make it that long. But she'll have lots of fun and be back to play with you when she's done out there!"

Madame Giry gave Philippe a very stern look, but when she turned to wave goodbye to the three of them, she had a slightly wet handkerchief in her hand.

"I think all five cats were for Philippe," Raoul commented as the trio walked away from the apartment.

Christine and Meg laughed. "I'm surprised he hasn't gotten you a cat as well, Meg," Christine said. "He nearly got a dog last year, you know."

"But that was for himself," Meg pointed out.

"Yes, it was, but that was when Raoul and I moved out and he wanted to replace us," Christine mused.

"Mother didn't want to replace you with a dog when you moved in with Philippe and Raoul," Meg said. "She just hugged me a little tighter."

"Bless her," Christine sighed. "She pretended not to, but I saw her cry at our wedding."

"_I_ cried at your wedding," Meg chuckled. "Honestly, I think everyone cried at your wedding. You two are too cute for words."

"Philippe practically howled," Raoul said reminiscently. "The minister had to stop the service because he was crying so much."

"I had to finish his best man's speech," Christine laughed. "I was glad that he walked me down the aisle, though."

"So before we all start crying again – Raoul, I haven't seen you in a while," Meg commented, turning to him. "Word has it that you're working at a publishing firm?"

Raoul nodded eagerly. "Assistant editor," he said proudly. "I do a lot of secretarial work, but it pays well."

"And he gets to work with some of the biggest names in publishing, so he might even get published some day," Christine added.

"Well, maybe," Raoul said modestly, turning slightly pink.

"You're good enough," Christine said confidently.

"I didn't know you wrote anything," Meg said curiously. "What kind of things do you write, Raoul?"

He shrugged. "Poetry, mostly."

"You romantic sop." Meg grinned. "Of course you do. Can I read it sometime, if you don't mind?"

"Yeah, I guess," Raoul said, suddenly becoming very interested in his feet. "I never really think it's all that good so I guess it'll be good to get a second opinion."

"He means besides mine," Christine added. "Apparently I no longer count as a second opinion now that we are married."

"You're just more inclined to say that it's good!" Raoul exclaimed, defending himself. "That's all I was saying."

"If anything, as your best friend, I have every reason to tell you if it isn't good," Christine pointed out. "But that's fine. I still get to read and enjoy all your poetry even if you don't value my opinion."

"I do too," Raoul exclaimed, but his voice was drowned out as they walked into the summer ball after presenting their tickets.

In this giant courtyard was everything a party could need and more: a disco, a bouncy castle, bumper cars, and a buffet filled with food. "At least I know our £70 went to good use," Meg commented; but even she was thunderstruck.

They went to the bouncy castle first, of course; but within five or six hours, they had done nearly everything. They were determined to stay up for the full twelve hours – there were special prizes awarded to those who came in at seven p.m. and lasted for the entire night until seven a.m., and all three were determined to win those prizes so they could parade around with them in a month when they went to graduation. Raoul also had a further reason to win a prize: he had attended Oxford's summer ball the previous year and had miserably failed so that, when graduation came, he was the only one of his friends not wearing a prize for staying up for twelve hours.

With a lot of caffeine, food, and dancing, the clock struck five… six… They started to collapse on the ground in sheer exhaustion but Christine kept shouting, "We have to make it! We have to make it!" The crowd dwindled until only about twenty or thirty were left, but each left had their own way of keeping themselves awake. Christine began singing random opera songs, which she had learned in her free time; Meg slapped herself in the face every five minutes; and Raoul tried to keep dancing, although he was moving very slowly so it looked like he was just a very bad living statue. They did this while looking at the clock, which seemed to keep dragging on the minutes slower and slower… 6:30… 6:35… 6:40… Meg nearly fell asleep but woke up and dragged everyone over to the bouncy castle to wake up… 6:50… nearly there…

The clock hit 6:59 and they all knew they'd made it. Everyone in the courtyard began to count down until everyone was screaming "ONE!" as the clock struck seven in the morning. The very small crowd managed to cheer louder than anyone could have anticipated, but most of them were too caffeinated, drunk, or both to care. They had _made_ it.

Raoul and Christine celebrated with a kiss as the president of the Students' Union staggered to the platform to begin a short speech and hand out the awards.

A loud, booming voice interrupted the president before she could even begin.

"_Well, well, well, you made it… But Christine Daae, the real question is this: have you missed me yet_?"


	19. Chapter 19

(A/N: So after the fiasco of losing all my writing, I actually managed to discover this week that I can recover everything – so all that worrying was for nothing! I've got my plans back and this story is also back on track, along with my schedule. Hope everyone is having a good week and let me know how you like this chapter! It's a bit shorter than others, but I think it's packed enough with action that it should be all right. Anyways, hope everyone has a good week! See you next Monday!)

Christine froze. At first, she didn't recognise the voice. Perhaps it was one of her electrical engineering friends. They would probably pull a prank like this. And she knew exactly how they did it, too. They'd wire the speakers all over the courtyard so that everyone could hear. Then, they would hook it up to a microphone and put themselves behind a voice-changing box so Christine wouldn't really know who it was (although she usually could tell – this one she couldn't quite place but she wanted to think that it was her friend Pete). Those little pricks probably just woke up, just so they could pretend to be some all-knowing figure and say, very patronisingly, "you made it to the end and I've had a wonderful night's sleep and you've been awake for more than twenty-four hours but that doesn't matter because ha, ha, I made it too". If Christine ever got her hands on whoever had set this up, then she would just about strangle them. After she slept, of course. She was almost too tired for any course of action now.

"_Well, did you miss me_?" the voice rang out. "_I don't like to be kept waiting. And it is very rude to leave questions unanswered, you know._"

Christine was about to dial Pete with shaking fingers when a shadow that seemed almost larger than life appeared, stepping out into the diminished crowd of exhausted survivors of the party. It was dressed in lumpy fabric so as not to discern its true shape, and over its face it wore a skull mask that completely covered its face except for the eyes, which were yellow.

A memory stirred in Christine's mind, a memory of long ago… but those times were far gone and she had not dared to remember them. No, this had to be Pete playing some practical joke on her. But perhaps subconsciously, she covered the sparkling ring on her left ring finger. If Erik found out that she was married…

Erik.

That was his name.

All of Christine's suppressed memories came flooding back, and she remembered Frederick and how he broke up with her because of a stalker; she remembered Raoul talking about the conversation he'd had with the strange recluse and how he was still confused about it; she remembered the strange angel taking her to his lair and never touching her until she slept, only for her to find that she had gone form her dream world of happiness to her real world of horror; she remembered his strange, hypnotic music almost lulling her into maybe, just maybe, loving the strange man with the disfigured face; she remembered standing above the school and coming to herself, feeling as if she had been drugged, unaware that she had been about to jump into Erik's waiting arms a few floors below. Instead, she found herself in Raoul's and, from that moment on, she had worked hard to erase the horrible memories.

And all that had been in vain, because now she remembered. She remembered all the little things that Raoul had done to protect her – but those moments she had never really forgotten. She remembered Meg's boxing classes to defend all of them from Erik. The memories of Erik, however, Christine had repressed so severely that it felt like being struck by a hammer until everything came back until she remembered again.

Most of all, she remembered Erik. She remembered his face and how, although his face was strange, it was something she did not find horror in. She remembered his eyes and how sad they were. And she remembered the first night she received a message, a message she never told anyone about for reasons she never really understood herself. It was Erik's first offer to be her music teacher. It had been written in a child's scrawl with a red pen, and it had said simply that her voice was beautiful and he was a very good music teacher who could give her lessons, but she would never be able to see his face. At the time, Christine had thought it had come from Frederick, so she simply hinted at it to him – but he never picked up on it. After she turned down the strange note and wrote back a very polite reply that she was not interested in taking voice lessons, but thank you very much for the offer, the threatening notes to Frederick appeared. And from then on, she was haunted by a shadow that never disappeared, never truly disappeared, from her life.

Christine emerged from her memories, shaking and pale. Raoul was standing in front of Christine, as was Meg. Their symptoms of tiredness had completely vanished as they stood in fighting stances, both ready to face off with this new stranger for Christine. Well, this wasn't exactly a new stranger. But Christine suddenly felt a surge of love fill her heart for her two best friends, and for the first time in Erik's presence, Christine's mind was completely clear. And she was so very angry.

Erik had taken this too far. He had left her alone for her time at university, and he was _not_ going to ruin her last month at university. And this was her _summer ball_. She had spent hours getting ready and she had enjoyed every second of this ball; and she was not going to let Erik march in and ruin it for her. She had grown older since her time in college and sixth form, and she had matured. And she could stand up to Erik now. She hadn't been able to then; but she had changed and she could stand up to him now.

"_Christine Daae, are you hiding from me_? _Are you really hiding from your darling Erik_?"

Christine took a deep breath and pushed Raoul and Meg gently away. "I can handle this," she said quietly. Raoul put a hand on her back anyways, and Meg held her hands up in fists. But they let Christine step forward.

"I'm not hiding anymore," Christine said, her voice echoing around the courtyard. "I'm not scared of you anymore, Erik. And you are not my darling anything."

"_You remember me_!" Erik exclaimed, very excited. He spread out his arms as if expecting a hug.

As if Christine would give him a hug – for what! "I remember you attempting to ruin my life," Christine replied coldly. "I am not going to let you ruin my life any longer, Erik. You don't control me and I am taking charge of my own life."

Erik stopped walking towards Christine the moment she stopped covering her left hand. "_There – there is a chain on your finger, Christine_."

"It's called a ring," Christine said irritably, holding up her hand. "It's called a marriage ring, to symbolise the sacred union between myself and Raoul de Chagny. I am a _vicomtess_ now."

It was difficult to tell what Erik was thinking. His face was completely covered and, as far as Christine could tell, he could be smiling underneath that mask. But he was clearly angry; there was no way he would be anything but angry. Christine, the person onto whom he projected his fantasies, had actually done things with her own life that did not fit in his plans. That thought made Christine feel a vindictive pleasure. He could be as angry as he wanted; nothing he did would change her mind.

"_Well, Christine, you seem to be labouring under some delusions_."

"How so?" Christine clenched her jaw and crossed her arms.

"_You cannot belong to anyone else, Christine_. _You belong to me_."

Christine did not have time to tell him her cutting reply. Erik grabbed her hand and ripped her wedding ring off before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. "I belong to no one but myself," she announced angrily to thin air.

Everyone else in the crowd screamed. Christine looked around, hoping that they would all pass it off as some kind of show. "What a good show my friends put on," she said faintly, and the other people nodded sleepily. They continued to hand out awards as normal and soon, they were all on their way home, a little more tired and a little more unnerved than before.

Raoul grabbed Christine's ring the moment it fell and held it in his hand until they were safely out of the courtyard. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, slipping it onto her finger and putting an arm around her shoulder as they walked back home.

"He wasn't too violent but you seem okay," Meg added. "But you're sure you're okay, Christine? Especially after we just pulled this all-nighter."

Christine nodded, and to her surprise a grin started to spread on her face. "Yeah, actually," she replied. "I'm fantastic." She started to laugh, perhaps partially out of nerves and partially out of sleep-deprivation, but mostly out of elation. "He's really going to regret resurfacing this time, my friends. He's going to regret ever bothering me, and especially bothering me now. He is going to regret this bitterly until the day he dies."


	20. Chapter 20

(A/N: Hi everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful week – I certainly did. The plan for this has gone a little bit off what I originally planned so I hope everyone likes it! See you next Monday!)

_Knock, knock_.

Raoul looked up but did not move to open the door. Christine, sitting just a room away in the library, froze in her tracks.

_Knock, knock_.

It was probably just the postman delivering a package of those new shirts that Christine had just ordered from Topshop.

_Knock, knock_.

But one could never be too sure.

After Erik made his daring reappearance, Christine and Raoul had been on edge whenever someone rang the doorbell or knocked on the door. They were always afraid that it would be Erik behind the door with a noose, ready to kill Raoul and take Christine away. Or, perhaps, ready to kill both of them. Raoul was in the process of installing security cameras all over the house, but in the meantime, the pair had to just rely on their wits to protect them from whoever was lurking at the door.

Raoul finally got up after the person on the other side knocked again. "I'll get it," he called, although there was no need to – Christine was, despite her bravado, too scared to open the door. She needed Raoul to accompany her to work every day, especially since she'd just gotten a new job after graduation and needed to be there on time – so she got the reputation of being an hour early so Raoul wouldn't be late to his work, either.

He walked over to the door and unlocked the deadbolt, the door handle, and undid the chain that connected the door to the wall. They could never be too safe, even if it sometimes did feel as if they were living in a prison. The one thing Raoul hadn't gotten installed yet was a peephole through the door, which he bitterly regretted; but for now, what they had would have to do. Raoul carefully opened the door just slightly, and then all the way once he realised who was standing at the door.

"You're – you're the Persian," he stammered, quite unsure of what he was doing here, how he found the house, or what his name was. Raoul quite forgot all formalities of greeting.

The Persian, or Bhuvan as the girls knew him, was standing at the door looking worried. "Yes, it is," he said. "I'm terribly sorry to drop in on you like this, but I feel like you two must know the information I carry with me."

"I – um – of course," Raoul said, opening the door all the way so Bhuvan could come inside. "Hello," he added as an afterthought. "Would you like tea?"

"Ah, no, I am quite all right, thank you," he said, nodding kindly at Raoul.

Christine timidly came out from the library and looked at Bhuvan in shock. "Bhuvan!" she exclaimed. "Why, I haven't seen you in four years! What brings you here?"

Bhuvan bowed his head. "I was once the custodian at your school," he said in a very deep voice, "and now, like you, I have moved into London, for I move with Erik."

Christine and Raoul exchanged glances. "What do you mean by saying that?" Raoul asked suspiciously.

"You did come shortly before I started getting Erik's threats," Christine said slowly, taking a step back. "What is your connection to Erik, then? Did _you_ set him on me?"

"I am afraid that I am responsible for Erik coming here," Bhuvan sighed heavily, sitting down in an armchair. "I did not expect that he would come after and prey upon a young girl. He is a genius, truly – a composer, an inventor, a mathematician, a scientist, and most of all a musician. He adores the arts. He had, I thought, better things to do than to focus on the doings of a the daughter of a violinist. You know, Erik once worked for the king of Saudi Arabia."

"But…?"

"But," Bhuvan said sadly, "Erik… well, you see, he has fits. He does not – well, he _did_ not – mean to kill anyone. It was a method of self-defence to set bobby traps for everyone who walked through, for he was well-loved by the king but hated by the king's enemies, and therefore was a target for enemy uprisings. He secured his living space for those reasons. He did not mean to kill the king's son."

"Oh, no," Christine murmured. "Was the king terribly upset?" She sat down in an armchair beside him, and Raoul followed suit.

Bhuvan nodded. "The king did not know it was Erik's trap. He believed that someone else had set up the trap. But Erik did not want to be questioned; he did not want to lose the king's respect, for the king had been one of the few people – besides myself – who trusted and liked Erik. So Erik came to me, for we were close friends, and he asked for help."

"What did you do?" Raoul asked quietly.

"The only thing I thought was available to us," Bhuvan said. "Erik had involved me in his plans, you see. And so I told Erik to face the king and say that he had to move to another country, for his father was gravely ill and needed Erik to come home. Erik did so, and the king believed him, for Erik had never mentioned his family before – so the king would not know that Erik did not know his father and his mother was still living but had spurned him long ago. And so, with the king's recommendation, we were allowed into England. I found a job in a small town as a janitor, and Erik began teaching music lessons via Skype. However, everything changed when he saw you, Christine Daae."

Christine moved a little closer to Raoul. "How do you mean?" she asked.

"He saw you sing and, from then on, he acted happier but stranger," Bhuvan told her. "He, from my understanding, sent you a note to ask if you were interested in voice lessons. I saw the note after you returned it to him, with your own very polite reply. The note was quite unlike him, and I knew then that he had perhaps lost some semblance of his sanity. And his next moves – to send you those threatening notes, when he thought he was sending you love letters – proved my suspicions beyond a doubt."

Raoul frowned. "I thought the first note you got was on a date with Frederick," he said quietly.

"I thought the first note _was_ from Fred," Christine said miserably. "It just asked me if I wanted voice lessons, and it was written in such a joking manner that I knew it was Fred – but after the other notes came in the same writing, I knew it wasn't. I just – I forgot about it. I'm not sure why I didn't tell you – I just felt sorry for Erik. I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"Not sure how I'm supposed to help you when you're still protecting Erik, and not yourself," Raoul replied sourly.

Christine fell silent and pursed her lips.

"I told Erik that he had one rule when he came here, and that was no killing people," Bhuvan continued, looking slightly uncomfortable at being caught in the middle of the couple's quarrel. "He worried me with the notes he sent to you, but I thought that in time he would stop and realise that his fantasy was nothing more than that. He did not, and it resulted in the death of Joseph Buquet. I did nothing to stop it and I could have taken Erik out – so his death has weighed on my conscience." He scratched his beard and adjusted his turban.

"I came to Erik, absolutely distraught. I told him, 'You said no more killing! You promised you would not kill again!' And he laughed and told me delightedly, 'But I have an idea for an opera and Christine will be mine! She will come to me willingly again – you'll see!' I did not believe him, and perhaps he did not believe himself. But I watched as his isolation drove him to madness, utter madness, until at last he remerged with a complete opera and a new, fanatic desire for Christine – whatever the cost.

"He is no longer the same Erik that you two once knew and pitied. He is a new Erik, one that I do not even know, and he will continue to kill until he has Christine. Even then, I do not believe he will stop killing. And I believe the last murder that he will commit will be yours, Raoul de Chagny."

Raoul frowned at Bhuvan, but he didn't really feel scared. He shrugged and turned to Christine, who had a very strange look on her face.

"We'll face him when he comes, and whatever will happen will happen," Raoul finally said.

"I knew you'd say something like that," Bhuvan chuckled. "Raoul, I am sure we will meet again – and you, Christine, too. But I give both of you this information for your safety, and for the future encounter you will likely have with Erik himself. Remember: he is not sane anymore and cannot be reasoned with; and should you encounter any of his traps, keep your hand at the level of your eyes."

"Why is that, anyways?" Christine asked.

"His favourite method of murder is a noose," Bhuvan said. "If your hand is at the level of your eyes, the noose will not strangle you."

Christine just swallowed very hard and nodded timidly.

"Where is Erik now?" Raoul asked.

"Hard to say," Bhuvan sighed. "He's gone mad with love, or obsession, or infatuation, or perhaps it was always going to happen – it is hard to tell. He could be anywhere. He could even be next door. As soon as I know, I will find the two of you to protect you; for I believe that, of any of us, I am the one who can reason with Erik."

Raoul looked warily next door, but he didn't think Erik would be so bold – or rich enough – to buy a house next door. And if Erik did live next door, then wouldn't he have already acted? But he looked at Bhuvan and somehow knew that, when Bhuvan came, it would already be too late.

"Thank you, my friend," Christine said quietly. "If you would like, we can offer you a place for the night."

Bhuvan smiled. "Thank you, dear, for your generosity; but I must continue looking for Erik. I will return with news as soon as I have it. Rest assured that I will do everything in my power to protect the both of you. Good night, Raoul and Christine de Chagny."

"Good night," Christine and Raoul murmured as Bhuvan shut the door.

"Odd," Raoul said. "But helpful. I'll still protect you, Christine; I always will. But… but just promise me something."

"Anything," Christine replied, coming up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Promise me that Erik isn't the one you're protecting."

Christine took a deep breath. "I promise. I love you, Raoul."

"I love you too," Raoul replied. "Well, let's go get something to eat then."

"All right."

But just as Christine went into the bedroom, when she probably thought Raoul couldn't hear her, Raoul thought he heard a faint murmur: "Poor Erik!"


	21. Chapter 21

(A/N: Hey! Been a while! I'm super sorry about not updating the story! I had loads going on and hit a bit of a snag with the story. Updates may be spottier since school started again, but I will do my best to keep up with my weekly Monday schedule. Hope you guys have had a good summer and let me know how you enjoyed the chapter! And I hope it was worth the wait :P)

Those words haunted Raoul all through the night. Poor _Erik_? What the hell was Christine thinking? Raoul was the one who'd been through more – and Erik was nothing more than a creepy stalker-murderer. So what about poor Raoul, who had risked his social status and his inheritance to marry the love of his life? What about poor Raoul, who had been there for Christine every time Erik appeared and she inevitably had a nervous breakdown? Who had been there that day after Christine had been abducted? Who had comforted her and offered her a place to live, to the chagrin of his dear brother? And whose family had welcomed her and treated her with nothing but kindness, even getting her a _kitten_, and had cried more than her own best friend at their wedding? But no – poor _Erik_…

Raoul went to bed in a horrible mood and did not speak to Christine. She attempted to whisper to him a few times, but she gave up after a few minutes and only said, "Oh, dear, he heard me."

Yeah, Raoul thought bitterly. I heard you.

"I didn't mean that I feel sorry for Erik – well, I do feel sorry for him – but he won't replace you, Raoul."

Raoul said nothing.

"I just need all of this to end. I want him to let me live."

"That makes two of us," Raoul said curtly.

Christine sighed and kissed Raoul's cheek before turning off the light.

He slept fitfully, and he thought that Erik had broken in and taken Christine in the night but that Christine went with him willingly, telling Raoul that things never would have worked out. He woke up with a start and saw Christine peacefully sleeping; but it didn't ease his mind. Erik would clearly come again for Christine – even Bhuvan thought so. But now, things were different. Christine had been in a sort of trance last time; now, she had full possession of all her senses and she still might go with him willingly. So what was the point, Raoul thought, of trying so desperately to protect her when she might just throw everything he offered back in his face and go with the man who had murdered?

Poor Erik…

_Poor Erik!_

Raoul woke up to find Christine's spot empty. He looked around in panic and shouted her name.

"It's better this way," Christine said, almost agonised. She was standing at the foot of the bed. Perhaps it was grogginess, but Raoul thought he saw a dark shadow behind her.

"Better what way?" he asked. "Christine!" He got out of bed and started to go after her – but she was too fast.

"Raoul, I have to end it," she said fitfully. "I can't live like this anymore. I have to end this once and for all."

"Christine!" he shouted, dashing out after her.

She was gone. Disappeared. Raoul walked back to their bedroom, confused and scared. On her pillow was a note, with that same loathsome, childish writing.

Raoul picked it up with trembling hands.

_Raoul de Chagny,_

_You have done well in caring for Christine. She seems happy. But you must understand that I am unhappy and Christine is the only one who can solve my problem. It's between a grasshopper and a scorpion – but never mind that, I suppose it means nothing to you. But once she has made a choice between these two, she can return. Or perhaps she will not. I do promise that she will be safe, for I understand that you love her. I do not understand how I love her, and perhaps I never will. I am afraid I still do not understand love._

_Raoul, you are a gentleman and you will be a good father, should Christine choose to return and have children with you. I know that you will be better than my father. Oh, if only I had been born with you and Christine as parents instead of the devils I got! But I am the only devil I know._

_Note well, Raoul: Christine can choose to come back to you, or she can choose to stay with me. It is the choice of the grasshopper or the scorpion – but one is more deadly than it seems! – aha! It's quite genius. I almost wish you were around to see it._

_I suppose this is our goodbye, Vicomte de Chagny. It has been a true pleasure doing business with you._

_Erik_

Raoul wanted to crush the note right there; but he didn't. He needed to call Bhuvan. Bhuvan would know what to do. Raoul clearly needed to follow Christine and rescue her – but he didn't know where to start. He had never known where Erik had taken Christine the first time; so he wouldn't know where to look a second time. But Bhuvan would know. The problem was that Raoul had no idea where to find Bhuvan, either.

Reaching for his phone, Raoul looked through his contacts and finally found the one he needed. He dialled quickly and hoped that it wasn't too early to call. After three rings, he thought it was probably too early to call, but he hoped that she would answer anyways.

"… Raoul?"

"Meg, hi."

"What's going on?" Meg asked groggily. "It's nine in the morning."

"Christine is in trouble. She's gone."

Raoul could hear sheets rustling in the background. Meg sounded much more alert when she said, "You sound awfully calm. I'll be over there in fifteen minutes. When did she disappear?"

"About five minutes ago. She – she walked away. She seemed really upset and said something about ending this once and for all. I think Erik was behind her."

"Oh, no… But… she just left? _With_ Erik?"

"Yeah," Raoul said miserably. "But that's not all."

"What could be worse?"

"The thing is, Meg, Erik left me a note."

Meg groaned.

"You can read it when you get here. I don't think I can stomach reading it out loud. But Meg, I think he's insane. Something happened and Erik is really insane this time. We need to find Christine before he does something awful."

Raoul could hear a television running in the background. Meg grew very quiet and then said, "Something awful… like planting a bomb?"

"A – a what?" Raoul stammered.

"Turn on your TV."

Raoul ran to the living room and switched on BBC 1. The news was running on an emergency broadcast: someone had wired bombs all throughout London.

"The threat came in at eight thirty this morning," the news anchor said, looking unusually calm for such a large story. "Security teams soon discovered the threat was credible and that someone has put bombs all over London in strategic areas. While teams are working to deactivate the bombs, we are unsure of when the unidentified person will activate the code to set off the bombs. The note did not have any demands. The note was delivered by a man who kept his face hidden from the cameras and disappeared as soon as he had left the note at the Prime Minister's doorstep. MI6 and MI5 are searching for the man but have no evidence to go by. We are asking for the public's help in identifying this man. If you have any information on him, please call the number on your screen."

"You should call, Raoul," Meg said, "assuming you're seeing the same thing as I am. We don't know much but we know a little, and that can help."

"How soon will you be here?" Raoul asked.

"Ten minutes," Meg said.

"Okay. I'll see you then."

Raoul hung up, noted down the number, then went in for a quick shower. After all, if he was going to rescue Christine, he needed to be dressed in something other than flannel pyjamas.

In ten minutes, Meg had appeared at the door with wet hair and a hastily thrown together outfit just as Raoul was putting on a shirt. He answered the door and beckoned her in without a word.

"Did you call?" Meg asked.

"Not yet," Raoul said. "Had to shower."

"Fine," Meg sighed. "I'll call."

She dialled the number Raoul had noted down. "Hello," she said. "My name is Meg Giry. I haven't met the man in question who's got bombs all over, but my best friend has. Her name is Christine Daae de Chagny. She's been kidnapped by this guy. Yes – yes – no, I don't know – well, he started sending her boyfriend death threats back in secondary school and now – well, no. His name is Erik. No – don't know his last name. Maybe he doesn't have one. We went to school in Surrey but he appeared at our university a few weeks ago – no, of course it wasn't reported. People thought it was a prank. Kings College London. Yes, he's stalked her for years… Well, we _did_ report it _several times_ but the police did nothing! I know, bloody useless… Do you remember the murder of Joseph Buquet, a few years ago? It went all over the news. Yeah. Erik killed him. His face? Um… never seen his face. He always keeps it covered."

"I have," Raoul said in a whisper.

"Wait, hang on – got a friend here – no, Christine's husband – yes, yes, the Vicomte – oh my gosh, you read Daily Mail, don't you? Well who he marries is _none_ of your business and I'll have you know he and Christine are _very_ happy together! – yeah, fine, until this Erik business but that has _nothing_ to do with their relationship and if you simply saw them you'd see they were perfect for each other. I – what? – oh, yeah, sorry." And Meg handed the phone over to Raoul.

"Hello," Raoul said. "I'm Raoul de Chagny."

"Quite the story in the papers a while ago," a girl with a cockney accent said.

"Yeah, whatever," Raoul said irritably. "Listen, I've seen Erik's face. It's pockmarked and he's got veins running up his head. His skin sags on the left part of his face and looks really red and torn on the right side. It – it looks like those victims of acid attacks. That's sort of what he looks like. His mouth is really swollen and his left eye sags. That's why he keeps his face covered."

"Right," the girl said slowly. "I got all that. We'll have an artist do a rendition and come over to your house in half an hour with it, yeah?"

"Fine," Raoul said.

"Right. Cheers." The girl hung up.

"They're sending an artist over with a rendition in half an hour," Raoul said to Meg. "So we have half an hour to figure out what Erik's note means."

"It was a pleasure doing business," Meg said venomously. "He said '_doing business_'! What the hell does this dude think Christine is? She's not a fucking object! She's a _person_! Oh, man, if I ever get my hands on Erik –"

"The scorpion and the grasshopper, Meg!" Raoul said loudly. "I know, that part bothered me too, but I think the grasshopper and the scorpion are more important right now."

"Right, the grasshopper and the scorpion," Meg mused, reading the letter. "But one is more deadly than the other… well, obviously, the scorpion is more deadly than the grasshopper. Scorpions kill you. But it also says one is more deadly than it seems… but grasshoppers aren't deadly at all. Like, all they do is jump on things and eat screens."

"Everyone knows scorpions are deadly," Raoul pointed out. "But perhaps – well, weren't grasshoppers a plague? They eat all the crops and then everyone dies."

"But what does it mean that _Christine_ has to choose?" Meg wondered. "She has to choose between a grasshopper and a scorpion. I hope they're not living – er – alive. But surely these things symbolise something?"

Raoul shook his head hopelessly.

There was a banging on the door. "It's only been five minutes," Raoul said, frowning as he went to the door. "No artist is that fast."

Bhuvan and Philippe stood outside and rushed in the moment Raoul opened the door. "He's got her," Bhuvan said breathlessly. "You have a note! Fantastic!"

Philippe put a protective arm around his little brother. "Have you seen the news?" he asked. "Erik put bombs all over the city. I called that hotline number but I didn't know a lot so I couldn't give them a lot of information."

Raoul nodded. "I called and described Erik. But they won't find him. He's got to be underground somewhere."

"You're going after her, aren't you?" Philippe said.

"Meg and I will," Raoul said, nodding.

"I'm coming too, then," Philippe decided. "And so is Bhuvan. He said he knows you."

"Yeah."

"A grasshopper and a scorpion… oh, but Erik, why?" Bhuvan exclaimed.

"What?" Meg asked frantically. "Do you know what it means?"

"Christine chooses the grasshopper and the bombs are activated," Bhuvan said hopelessly, sitting down. "But Erik won't tell her that. He'll… he'll tell her it's some kind of happy ending. She gets to leave and go with Raoul. But of course they'll all be dead! But if she chooses the scorpion, she stays with Erik forever… Erik views himself as a scorpion. He is deadly by nature. But grasshoppers are more destructive."

"We've got to find her!" Raoul exclaimed in a panic. "If she chooses the wrong thing then – then…"

Raoul hesitated. Bhuvan thought the grasshopper meant that Christine came back to Raoul – but all of London paid the price. But if Christine chose the scorpion, then she condemned herself to a life with Erik…

"It's an impossible choice," Meg whispered.

"We'll get her," Raoul said determinedly. "Christine is smart. She'll figure out that the grasshopper activates a bomb – she's an engineer. So she'll choose the scorpion. And then we'll go in and rescue her so she's not stuck there."

"You want to go down there? Into Erik's lair?" Bhuvan asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Raoul said determinedly. "I need to find her. She can't condemn herself like that."

Bhuvan shook his head at Raoul. "You are a determined young fellow who is ardently in love," he said. "I will lead you there, Raoul de Chagny."

"I'm coming too," Meg said, crossing her arms.

"And so am I," Philippe added.

"I warn you," Bhuvan said, "it will be filled with obstacles meant to kill. I cannot guarantee the safety of everyone. Erik will not be pleased with any of us if we try to get into his lair."

"Christine needs us," Meg said determinedly. "We promised her. And we don't break promises."


	22. Chapter 22

(A/N: So… been a year… but I reread this story and really didn't want to leave it there. I appreciate everyone who's stuck with me, and I daresay this probably wasn't worth the wait but I hope you enjoy it all the same!)

Christine watched Erik's every move. She had been dazed last time, perhaps even drugged; but this time she was determined to know where she was going. This way, she would know the way out. She could call the police, tell them where Erik lived, and put an end to the madness once and for all.

Yet the man behind the mask was pitiful. He needed help, perhaps from a psychologist or some kind of professional. That much, Christine was certain. But she also knew that the help he sought could not come from her, for she did not know how to give it. Besides, when would he be happy? When he captured her and kept her in captivity as his wife? Did he think his issues would miraculously stop then? Christine knew her presence would not be enough. Soon, Erik would start his vicious cycle of killing and being hunted until he died. Christine would not be able to stop him.

Erik wordlessly took her down to his lair – a new lair, one that she did not recognise but one which she knew seemed to be right underneath the Royal Opera House – and set her in a small room, locking her inside. She had a view through the window of a strange, forest-like area, but it was too dimly lit for her to see what it actually was. She started pacing around the small room, debating on how to get out and how to stop Erik from this madness.

And then she thought… but no, she _wanted_ to live. She wanted to go work at her dream engineering firm and she wanted to go home to her best friend and she wanted to keep living. She just wanted to live without Erik. But perhaps she would not be allowed to live without him. Perhaps, this was the only way.

No, there had to be another way. She paced and paced until she felt so dizzy that she could hardly stand still without swaying. The door had no handle and was locked from the outside. But perhaps she could get out through the window – it seemed easy enough. And sure, she was an electrical engineer, but that didn't mean that she hadn't spent some time working with mechanics. She knew how windows worked and she could probably wedge it out – but of course there were no tools. The room had just a bookshelf with two books, a bed with a quilt, and a lamp.

Christine examined the bedframe. Perhaps, if it came apart, she could smash open the window and take her chances with whatever was out there. She found how the bedframe came apart – relatively simple, actually, and the bedframe was made with wood and that would smash glass easily enough, given enough force. She could hear Erik in another room, just playing piano, so she knew that she could be undisturbed as she took apart the bedframe.

The mattress was a nightmare to get off, as it was extremely heavy and Christine wasn't terribly muscular. But she finally heaved it off, and it fell on the floor with a loud thud. Christine froze as the piano playing stopped. Footsteps approached.

"What are you doing?" Erik said angrily, flinging open the door.

"I – I was trying to kill myself," Christine stammered, unable to think of another excuse as to why a mattress would be on the floor. "It was heavy so I thought if it landed on top of me it would smother me." She inwardly cursed herself. That was one of the weirdest, and most stupid, excuses she'd ever invented. Why did she think that would work? Erik wouldn't buy that nonsense.

But he did buy that nonsense. He looked at her sadly and said, "But Christine, you are safe with me." He took out some rope. "I did not wish to use this."

Knowing his trick with the lasso, Christine gasped and held her hand at the level of her eyes. Erik shook his head and grabbed her hands forcefully, tying them together. Christine could barely move against him – his height and his strength were simply too much. Meg was the fighter, not Christine; she vowed that she would take up rugby and boxing like her tiny friend once she got out.

And Erik left her there, locked in a room, with her hands tied together.

Christine swore. Why had she made up the lie? Why hadn't she just told him she wanted to leave?

That was ridiculous, though. She had followed him. She had gone with Erik willingly this time. She remembered how upset Raoul had been when she had whispered, "Poor Erik!" He probably wasn't looking for her this time. He had probably given up. She didn't blame him. He had been through enough. And after all this, she spurns him for Erik?

But she hadn't. She loved Raoul. She had gone with Erik willingly, yes, but with a plan to trap him and get him arrested once and for all. She knew she could outsmart Erik. Bhuvan had said that Erik was a genius, but so was Christine. She was an electrical engineer, damnit, and she knew a lot more than everyone thought she did.

So, she figured, she had finally tested Raoul's limits. She had finally driven him away. He wouldn't come to rescue her.

Christine clenched her jaw. She didn't need anyone to rescue her. She was so tired of everyone fighting over her. She was tired of everyone demanding her attentions, demanding that she choose one over the other. She wasn't a pawn. She wasn't a ping pong ball. She was a human being and she wanted to finally be treated like one. Erik practically acted like she had no agency of her own. Raoul constantly worried about whether she would choose him – as if the past four years weren't enough proof! She married him, and he still worried! And Christine was done with all of it. She would be the one who would rescue herself.

She had come armed with man's greatest tool: a Swiss Army knife. She twisted her hands around to her back pocket, where she kept it, and pulled it out. She flipped open the knife and carefully cut through the rope. Her hands were free within a minute. She took a deep breath and grabbed a book off the bookshelf. Luckily for her, it was a heavy book: War and Peace. With all her might, she threw the book at the window. The window broke open with a loud crash.

Christine's heart thudded. She had seconds to get out. She ran to the window and started to climb over the broken glass. She cut her hand on the sharp edge but clamoured on as blood started pouring from her hand. She could see daylight. She had a knee through the window, and she tore her jeans as she reached for the grass.

Rough hands pulled her back in. She screamed, partially in agony, partially in frustration. She could see the grass. She could see the daylight. She was so close to freedom, so close to telling the police everything Erik had done.

Erik tied her to the chair in her room and carted her away from the window. "I don't understand," he said sadly. "I will give you a choice soon, but you cannot leave until then. But once you have made the choice, I could be gone forever! Or I could be yours forever – it is up to you."

Christine hadn't the faintest idea what any of that meant. She didn't care. Perhaps she wasn't cut out for this. Perhaps she did have to forever be the damsel in distress who needed rescuing. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Raoul wasn't coming. He wasn't coming. And why should he? Why should he always show up to save her? Why couldn't she save herself?

Erik took Christine to a darker room. This one only had a bed. "It's not as pleasant," he said, "but this is what you receive now. I have tried to be pleasant and hospitable. You have not been a very good guest."

"Guest," Christine repeated faintly. "You tie up guests, do you? You kidnap them and tie them up?"

"I did not kidnap you," Erik said sharply. He barely glanced at her, looking instead at the floor, as he said, "You came with me."

Christine fell silent. She could argue with him. She could tell him why she came with him, why she followed him. She could tell him that she wanted to turn him in to the police and make sure that he got the death penalty. But then she wouldn't get another chance to escape.

She looked around her new room. There was only a mattress and four darkened walls in this room. What escape? What chance? She could cut herself free – and then where would she go? Erik would hear her. He would see her running back to the window. Everything she did was pointless, because Erik would stop her somehow.

Her hand was still bleeding, and she had scraped her knee as well. Her knee was stinging, but she didn't have a bandage to cover it with. She cut herself free again so she could put her other hand on her knee. That didn't help much. She started to feel shooting pains up her leg. Her right hand hadn't stopped bleeding yet. She hoped she wouldn't feel woozy or dizzy. She needed to have a clear mind so that when Raoul came, she wouldn't be in hysterics and she wouldn't be cloudy.

Oh, what was the point? What was the bloody point?

He wasn't coming. And even if he was, how would he find her? He wouldn't be able to go through this kind of a maze. He wouldn't know where she was.

But he wasn't coming. Christine and Raoul rarely got into fights, and their fights were mostly about home furnishings. They got into spats, but not fights. Raoul was always ready to talk things through, to listen to her. He always wanted to resolve the issue. But last night, he hadn't. Last night, he had sat there, stony-faced, while Christine had tried to talk to him. He had turned his back to her while they slept.

With a heavy heart, Christine realized that she had finally broken him. It was Christine, not Erik or anyone else, who had broken that poor, sweet, kind, generous boy who had trusted her with his heart. She couldn't blame this on Erik. She could only blame this on herself and her stupid need for compassion to – to a man who stalked her and maybe even raped her. She had never known. But she shouldn't feel guilty for disliking Erik. She shouldn't feel guilty for hating him. She certainly shouldn't feel compassion for him. And Raoul – he cared about her so much that he hated who she hated, and he loved those she loved. He hated those who wronged Christine. And one of those people, in his head, was Erik.

He was right. Christine shook her head. She knew she must've been experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, or something. Erik hadn't killed her, so he was good. Erik maybe hadn't raped her, so he was good. He was polite when he talked to her face to face. He had a tragic backstory. So she had to feel pity for him. She sighed; she could feel pity for him without needing to fix him. He was obsessive, a stalker, a predator, a paedophile. A genius, a philanthropist, a composer, a murderer, a stalker, delusional. Erik was hard to put into a box.

Christine slapped herself. She had to snap out of this. She couldn't think about this. She had to get out. She had to get out and apologize to Raoul, if nothing else. If he wouldn't hear her out, then fine. She would live with the knowledge that she had ruined the only love she ever had.

Raoul wasn't coming.

She started to cry. What was the point at all? What was the point of living? She would be stuck here forever. Even if she got out, she wouldn't get Raoul back. She had pushed him too far and she had driven him away. She hated herself for doing that to him. She wanted to punch herself, or hurt herself so badly so she could feel some kind of pain to end this psychological torture –

Suddenly, she looked at the wall. And she knew. She knew what she could do. She could end Raoul's suffering and spite Erik once more, in one fell swoop. She could let Raoul move on and find someone who would treat him right. She could make sure that Erik never had the satisfaction of seeing her alive again.

She gulped and walked up to the wall. She placed her bloody hand on the wall and took a deep breath. This might work. As she leaned back, she thought of what she wanted her last memory to be.

She closed her eyes and transported herself to her wedding day, when she walked down the aisle and saw Raoul's face. His blue eyes shined with tears as he grinned, and his face seemed to say, "I'm the luckiest man alive."

And with that image in her mind, she smashed her head against the wall.


	23. Chapter 23

(A/N: Hi everyone! I know I'm suuuper inconsistent with uploading on this story but the end is in sight! I do want to note that from here on out, I'm following the book far more closely than the musical. So, for those of you who've read the book, I'm sure you know what comes next. TW: torture chambers.)

"She's an engineer," Philippe said. "She can figure out how to diffuse a bomb… right?"

"I don't think they taught that in school," Meg said.

They were following Bhuvan through the streets of London. Raoul wasn't sure where he was, and he knew the city quite well, so that worried him. He trusted Bhuvan because he had saved Raoul's life by telling him about the noose. But there was that nagging suspicion in the back of Raoul's mind, telling him that Bhuvan was just leading them all to their deaths.

This intrigue was too much for Raoul. He wanted to be able to trust people again. He wanted to believe that people were good. But this whole business with Erik had made him doubt. Christine was a good person, but even she had somehow fallen under Erik's spell. Poor Erik, indeed…

Of course, that wasn't stopping Raoul. He had always saved Christine. He had always come when she called. He was certainly not going to abandon her now.

That nagging voice came back to him. What if she didn't want him to come back? What if she wanted to stay with Erik?

No, why would she?

But what if?

"Raoul?"

Raoul jumped. "What?"

Meg was giving him a very weird look. "You look scared."

"Of course I'm scared," Raoul snapped.

"She still loves you," Meg said. "I know she does."

Raoul glared at Meg. "I didn't doubt it," he said angrily. "Is this it?" He pointed to a rather obvious trapdoor in the ground next to a run-down, abandoned pub.

"Raoul, I'm serious," Meg said. "I know you said she went with him willingly, but maybe she has a plan. She never goes into anything without a plan."

"I know," Raoul said.

Meg frowned, still unconvinced. "Listen…"

"I think our priority is finding her," Raoul said. "We can talk about this later."

Philippe put a protective arm around Raoul. "She's going to be fine," he said. "Her family is looking for her."

It took Raoul a moment to realize that Philippe was talking about them.

"No one takes our Christine," Philippe continued. "Sam will miss her."

"Why are you going to so much trouble?" Raoul asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Why do you always go to so much trouble for Christine?" Raoul repeated, turning to his brother. "You took her in as one of the family. You've gotten her a cat. You cried at our wedding. When I first brought her home, you told me she was going to try to get pregnant so she could ensnare me. What changed?"

"I was proved wrong," Philippe said simply. "I saw what you saw. I started out with my prejudices. And then, I got to know her and realized that you loved a brilliant, kind, gentle girl who was always fighting for equality. And I suppose, ever since then, I've tried to make up for my initial comments. I never thought Christine forgave me."

"But she did," Raoul said. "She did almost immediately."

Philippe gave Raoul a half-smile. "I suppose," he said. "I also still need to forgive myself."

"Oh," Raoul said. "Um."

"Don't worry," Philippe said. "I've been through the old arguments. I was raised to think like that, and as a lord I've rather been out of touch with society." He shrugged. "It doesn't seem like a good excuse to be inhumane."

"It was only for a couple days," Raoul said. "You've more than made up for it."

"I hope so," Philippe said.

"We will have to be quiet now," Bhuvan said. "Be careful. Follow my steps exactly. Erik has traps set everywhere and if we set them off, that would be the end of our expedition, and the end of us."

"A very poetic way of saying we could die," Meg said. "All right, carry on."

They went in through the trap door one by one into a darkened corridor. Bhuvan turned on a flashlight. Raoul couldn't help but gasp. The walls were all stained with blood.

"Is that…?"

"Not real, probably," Bhuvan whispered. "He likes to terrify his victims in their minds as well as their bodies."

Raoul shivered. Erik probably hadn't taken Christine this way. He wouldn't want to terrify her. Or maybe he had. He was insane enough now. Raoul remembered the day Christine had appeared when she had first been taken, almost four years ago now. She had been wearing her pink Glinda dress, torn and frayed. Her hair had been matted. But her face had been the worst part. She had looked so frail and helpless. Just thinking about it nearly crushed Raoul's heart. His fiery, strong-willed, determined Christine had been broken that night. He didn't want it to happen again.

So yes, he was coming for her, whether she wanted him to or not.

"Careful!" Bhuvan whispered. "Follow my footsteps exactly, Vicomte."

Raoul started. He looked at the ground where he had nearly placed his foot and saw a very carefully hidden lever that presumably made something awful appear. "Sorry," he whispered.

"We'll get to her in time," Meg said. "Don't worry."

"I'm not," Raoul said. He was scared, nervous, angry, and determined. But he wasn't worried. Christine had come a long way. He remembered how she laughed when Erik appeared again. She wasn't that helpless eighteen-year-old girl anymore. She was a fighter. Raoul smirked; this time, Erik would be furious that he got in Christine's way.

"He certainly will get more than he bargained for," Philippe said. "Chris is a lot tougher than he thinks she is."

Raoul looked up, blinking back tears. He wasn't sure why he wanted to cry all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the stress of everything. Or perhaps it was the fact that his brother, a proud member of the snooty aristocracy, had practically adopted a common girl just because Raoul liked her. Philippe cared more than he let on. Raoul blinked back his tears and looked forward again.

"Erik won't plan on us, either," Meg said. "I'm sure he plans on you." She looked at Raoul.

Raoul shrugged. "It's likely," he said.

"But we'll show up and surprise him, I bet," Meg said.

"He underestimates how close our family really is," Philippe said. "She's a de Chagny now, and we de Chagnys don't go down without a fight."

Raoul wanted to point out that no one in his family had ever been in a war, ever, but he kept his mouth shut. Now, when they entered a barren room with what looked like torture devices in the corner did not seem the best time to tease his brother.

They passed through the barren room without incident. Each room brought a new fear into Raoul's heart. This room was also barren, with grey cement walls and one door out. Raoul was terrified of getting trapped in one of these rooms. There would be no way out, and they would all just suffocate. No one would ever find them, either. Raoul shuddered.

Bhuvan opened the door to the next room, which looked like a weird, tropical rainforest. Raoul frowned. He walked in.

"Not there!" Bhuvan suddenly screamed.

Raoul spun around.

Philippe had trod where Bhuvan had not, and he had activated… something. Raoul moved to run back to him, but Philippe frantically waved his arms. "Stay where you are!" Philippe said.

The gunshot echoed in the cement room. With a thud, Philippe fell to the ground.

Raoul screamed.

"Hush!" Bhuvan said. "He'll hear you."

Ignoring Bhuvan, Raoul rushed to Philippe's side. The bullet had gone directly through his head. Raoul was shaking so badly that he could barely put a finger to Philippe's neck to see if he was still breathing and still had a pulse. Raoul didn't need to do it to know. But he still did. He wanted hope where there was none.

Raoul grabbed his big brother's body and howled. His surrogate father of five years was gone because of a madman in a mask. Philippe, the man who was so apologetic about a comment he made once to Raoul's girlfriend that he spent the next four years of his life making up for it. This was what Erik did; he killed everything that was good and kind in the world and replaced it with coldness.

"You have to let him go," Bhuvan said. "Come on. We have to move on."

"We're not going without him," Raoul sobbed. "I'm not going anywhere without him."

"Save your tears," Bhuvan said. "The next chamber is a heated one."

"I'm not going without him," Raoul said. "I'm not."

Bhuvan was much bigger than Raoul, so he forcibly picked Raoul up and dragged him away – although not without a lot of difficulty.

"No!" Raoul screamed. "You're not leaving him in there!"

"We can get him later," Bhuvan said. "You have to concentrate, Vicomte. Christine is still in danger."

At this moment, though, Raoul didn't care. He just wanted his brother back. He started to feel angry towards Christine. It was her fault he was dead. If she hadn't gone with Erik in the first place, Philippe wouldn't be dead and Raoul wouldn't be, once again, an orphan. Why did she have to go? Why had she gone? Why had she stupidly thought that she could defeat Erik alone?

Raoul tried to stop sobbing. What was he saying? Christine hadn't done this. Erik was responsible, and Erik alone. He was the killer. He was the one who had stalked Christine and maybe seduced her and preyed on her. He was the one who, when her husband came to get her, set up death traps so none of them would be able to rescue her. Erik was the murderer. Raoul gulped. That was what made him ugly. His face wasn't that bad, but his soul… his soul was twisted and monstrous.

"Okay," Raoul said, sniffling. "Okay."

"Philippe would have wanted us to keep going," Meg said softly, putting a hand on Raoul's shoulder.

"I know," Raoul snapped. "He was _my _brother."

Meg put her hand by her side. "I'm just trying to help."

Raoul sighed. "I know," he said. "I – I just want space right now. I want to find Christine on my own. You two head back."

"No," Meg said.

"And as much as we might want to," Bhuvan said, looking mildly at the doors, "we cannot."

"We're not locked in," Meg said, sounding small.

"For a while," Bhuvan said. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. "A bit hot, isn't it?"

"It is," Raoul said. He was comfortable in warm temperatures, so he was all right for a while.

"Ah," Bhuvan said. "A heat trap."

"A heat trap?"

"Don't speak," Bhuvan said. "He heats the metal in the room so that it dehydrates us until we nearly die. We cannot touch the doors, for they are too hot to touch even for a second. And then, when we are on the brink of death, we're released into a lake."

"Fantastic," Raoul said. He turned to Philippe. "I don't suppose you have-"

But the words died in his throat. How could he have forgotten in those few moments? Philippe was dead.

Raoul wanted to cry again. He was with Bhuvan and Meg, but he had never felt more alone in his life.

The heating came on. At first, Raoul welcomed it. For some reason, he had started shivering. Or no – he was shaking. He wanted Philippe.

He had always been the strong one. He had always been the one who had comforted Christine, but was rarely this upset and vulnerable himself. But he had had Philippe then.

Raoul's breaths came in shallower and shallower. The air was getting so thick with heat that he could hardly breathe. A dry spot formed in the back of his throat that wouldn't go away. Then his tongue felt dry. The sweat evaporated from his skin until he was worried he would shrivel up like an old fruit. Exhausted, he put his back to the wall, which was even hotter than the floor. Raoul looked to Meg, who was hopping from one foot to the other to avoid standing on the metal floor for too long.

He started to cough. He tried to swallow, but there was no liquid left in him. His throat was completely dry. He grabbed it as it throbbed and ached but that did nothing to soothe the pain.

He thought of Philippe. It had all been so quick. Philippe was lucky. All over in one shot. Raoul's death would be slower. Agonizing. Erik wouldn't let Raoul die quickly.

No, what was he talking about? He had to keep going. He had to keep going for Christine. She was stuck in this madman's chamber. If only he could have just one sip – one drop – of water…

Every breath he took dried up his throat more. He couldn't stand any longer. He collapsed to the burning hot floor, not caring if it seared his skin off. Now, he was burning up on the inside and the outside. He looked vaguely at the skin on his hands, which was now bright red and scalding. But he couldn't keep his eyes open. They were too dry.

Again, he wished for water to no avail.

The floor suddenly opened and Raoul, Meg, and Bhuvan were dropped into a pool of water. Raoul gasped in relief as the water rushed over his burning face and hands. He took gulps of air that was cool and refreshing. He put his mouth into the water.

"Don't," Bhuvan croaked.

"Poisoned?" Meg said, her voice barely audible.

"Might be," Bhuvan said.

Raoul gulped as the water washed down his throat, clearing the dry spots. "We'll find out," he said, his voice a little stronger.

Bhuvan and Meg watched Raoul carefully. They stayed there, standing in the water for the next few minutes, while Raoul thought about his last words to Philippe. What had he said? Had he told Philippe that he loved him? Had he told him that he appreciated everything Philippe had done for him? Had he told him that Philippe was the person he most admired in the world?

Raoul looked down at his scalded hands. Philippe gave his life so that Raoul could continue on to save Christine. And after all that, Raoul had drunk some poisoned water and wouldn't even get to Christine.

"Raoul?"

Meg sounded scared. "Raoul, say something. Please."

Raoul shook his head. "Useless," he said.

"It's been a few minutes," Meg said. "Surely it's not –"

"The water won't kill him," Bhuvan said. "Erik prefers fast-acting poisons. He has not poisoned the water."

A wave of relief washed over Raoul. He dipped his head in again as Meg went underwater.

"It's probably not sanitary," Bhuvan said.

Meg laughed, pushing her long, wet hair out of her face. "At this point," she said, "I don't care." She walked over to Raoul. "Raoul," she said, suddenly very sober, "I'm so sorry." She hugged him tightly.

Raoul didn't know what he felt. He wanted to feel happy that the water wasn't poisoned and that he would live to see Christine again. But he wanted to feel desperately unhappy that Philippe wasn't here. Was it wrong to feel relieved that he was alive, when his big brother was dead? Was it wrong to feel somewhat happy that he would see Christine again, when Philippe would never get to see her again?

"You guys," Raoul said finally, "are the best friends I ever could have asked for."

Meg patted Raoul's shoulder. "So are you," she said.

Raoul wasn't sure about that. He had led his brother to his death.

"The water is rising!"

Raoul looked down. His feet were beginning to float. "Good thing I was a sea cadet," Raoul said. He looked around and saw two pipes that were blowing out air bubbles. "You two go over there." He motioned to the pipes. "I can hold my breath for a while."

"How long?" Meg asked. The water was past her neck.

"Three minutes," Raoul said. He looked around. They were in a cement block, but the floor was glass. Or, at least, it looked like glass. He hoped.

Meg started to swim over to the air pipes. Raoul took a deep breath and dove under the water. He pulled out his Swiss Army knife. It wouldn't help much, but Christine always insisted that he carry one around because they were "man's greatest tool". He used it to punch the glass. He counted each punch to the glass as he went, as if that would help. One – two – three – a crack was showing – four – he was starting to feel slightly lightheaded – five – another crack – six - he pulled out the knife and tried to pry the glass open – no, that was a stupid idea – seven –

The three of them washed up in another cement room with one tiny window. The water drained into a small drain in the middle of the room. Raoul took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, once he had caught his breath back. "What's this one?"

Bhuvan looked around. "This seems… normal."

"I assume it's not," Meg said. "There" – she coughed – "has to be something."

"Meg?"

Raoul looked up sharply. That was a woman's voice.

"Oh my gosh," Meg said. She crawled over to the window and peered into it. "I can't see anything."

"It's been blacked out."

Christine.

Raoul put a hand to his mouth to stop him from crying out with joy. She was there, just behind the wall.

"Can't you open it?" Meg said.

"No," Christine said. "Erik confiscated my Swiss Army knife and I'm tied to the bed."

"You're-"

Raoul's words caught in his throat.

"Not because-" Meg said.

"No," Christine said. "Not this time."

"Why are you tied to the bed?" Bhuvan said. "That is not Erik's usual style. He would want you free."

"I kept getting free," Christine said. "Well, I thought you weren't coming. I thought – well – I thought Raoul was mad at me. And I'm so sick of running. I wanted Raoul to live a normal life, and I wanted Erik to die. And I didn't have anything so I – I tried smashing my head against the wall."

Raoul groaned. "I always come for you," he said. "Always."

"Raoul?" Christine sounded relieved. "You're here!"

Raoul went to the window. He was too weak to walk, but he crawled there and put his hand on the wall. He closed his eyes, wishing desperately that he could just hug her. Just once.

Meg put her hand next to his on the wall. Bhuvan did the same.

"Of course I'm here," Raoul said. "We all are."

"We promised we wouldn't leave you," Meg said. "And we meant it."


End file.
